Second Chance
by alatariel-gildaen
Summary: An accident in a potions class has serious consequences for Snape, and Hermione's the only one who can help. HGSS romance, rated R for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This has been on here once before, under the pen name alatarielaldarion. However, following the recent bug, all my work was lost. I've only just been able to recover this, so I'm now reposting it all again. Please R&R, and enjoy

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Severus Snape watched with little interest as his fourth year Ravenclaw class rushed out of the dank dungeon that served as his classroom, practically running to the Great Hall for lunch and the obligatory discussion about what a monster their potions master was. It was now his sixteenth year of teaching at Hogwarts, and the passing years had done nothing to improve his enthusiasm for the job. Two months had passed since what he deemed to be the worst summer he had ever spent, (although he did admit to himself that he felt this about every summer,) and it was now another two months until Christmas; his other least favourite time of the year.

Recently he had found himself unable to eat anything in the Great Hall, if he ate at all. Usually at lunch he would retire to his private room and have a hand rolled cigarette, washed down with a double strength extra large espresso which he made himself - the house elves were notoriously bad at making anything to Severus' liking. Smoking was a vice he had had pretty much for as long as he could remember, as was his ritual of lighting a stick of sandalwood incense to cover the smell of stale tobacco afterwards. He knew he could more effectively magic the smell away but somehow he took far more pleasure in performing this simple ceremony. He sat on the floor with his elbows on his coffee table, cigarette held loosely in his right hand, head held in the other and watched the small stick burn right down, occasionally sipping at the dregs of his coffee, willing time to go slower. This afternoon he had his least favourite class of the week; seventh year NEWT level. The one class that used to be a relative haven was now a nightmare. The one class which had a student body made up of reasonably intelligent pupils, who understood at least half of what he was trying to teach them now contained Potter.

Snape had never understood how Potter had managed to get an 'Outstanding' in his Potions OWL. He disputed it quite adamantly that the grades had been tampered with, that there had been unfair adjudication, that Potter had, quite simply, cheated. When all of these theories were at last knocked back, Severus had no choice but to allow the boy in his class. His idea of scrapping the exam and basing the entire NEWT grade on course work had, sadly, been refused.

He made his way dejectedly back to the dungeon, pausing to knock a few House points away from Gryffindor when he found two first year students 'loitering' outside his classroom. Their pleas that they had come to hand in some work he had told them to finish or else receive another detention fell on very deaf ears, and, smiling internally, he gave them both another detention.

The small sense of satisfaction gained by this act of defiance against Gryffindor was very short lived as he heard the approaching clamour of young adult voices. He sat at his desk and waited with the sense of sick anticipation he had come to expect over seven years of teaching the boy.

The first student to enter was, as always, Draco Malfoy. He smiled slightly at the absolutely pristine boy, out of necessity rather than anything else - Severus knew that if he didn't show favouritism towards the boy his father could make his life very complicated indeed. The second student to enter was, as always, Hermione Granger. Seven years of put downs had done nothing to dampen the girl's enthusiasm for knowledge, and though he was loathe to admit it, she was incredibly intelligent. Potter followed her in, making a bee-line for the seats at the back, looking dismayed when Hermione went for a seat near the front. This was a weekly ritual. Hermione, desperate to quench her thirst for knowledge would try to sit at the front. Potter, desperate to be as far away from Snape as possible would stay at the back. A reproachful glance from both of them at the other would signal a compromise, and they would sit together in the middle.

'At least,' thought Snape, trying to cling on to some hope of sanity before the madness started, 'there are no Weasleys in this class.'

Other students entered in drips and drabs. He glanced at his pocket watch. Precisely two o'clock. Two more identical students entered. "Miss Patil, Miss Patil," he said, directing them at each twin, "You are both late. Ten points from Gryffindor, ten points from Ravenclaw. Sit down, and do not do anything else to catch my eye this lesson. Woe betide you if you do." As he turned back to face the blackboard he caught a scornful look from Harry Potter. This put him back in a slightly better mood. The class had only started a few seconds ago and already he had taken points away from Potter's beloved Gryffindor!

"Today you will be continuing work on your self supported study." He said as he whirled around to face them. "During the lesson I will wish to see each of you with a copy of your thesis, a sample of whatever concoction you have currently managed to create, and I want each of you to have some idea on how, if at all, you are going to reach your desired goal." The class immediately sprang to life, retrieving cauldrons full of varying potions.

Snape sat back at his desk and watched. One of his students caught his eye; Draco Malfoy was looking around shiftily and leaning over someone else's cauldron. It's owner, Hermione Granger, was currently in the student supplies cupboard. Snape watched as Draco squeezed a few drops of thick, dark green liquid out of a pipette into Granger's cauldron. _"Mermaid blood,"_ thought Snape with vindictive pleasure, "_Interesting to see if she can sort that mess out."_ But Draco's intent on destroying Hermione's work appeared not to have stopped there. Looking around once more to check that she wasn't watching, Draco proceeded to pour a fine black powder into the potion. Crushed, dried leeches. The two were an incredibly volatile combination. Without a thought for himself Snape had crossed the room and threw himself over the cauldron just as the mixture exploded. He received the full brunt in the chest, and was vaguely aware of a prickling sensation all over his body, just before the world went black.


	2. Chapter 2

He woke slowly from a disturbing dream of students, cauldrons and explosions. His bed felt surprisingly warm and comfortable; much more so than it usually did. He couldn't remember what day it was and as a result felt incredibly reluctant to open his eyes; as long as they were shut he could imagine it was a weekend, and not have to teach ignorant brats who didn't want to learn. He rolled over onto his right side and began fumbling on his bedside table for his pouch of tobacco only to find that his bedside table was no longer there. The resulting confusion served to throw him instantly awake.

He tried to take in his surroundings; multiple beds, bright light, high ceiling, enormous arched stained glass windows, several faces peering at him. "Oh Gods," he mumbled as he realised where he was, "fucking hospital wing. What happened?"

"My dear Severus, it's good to see you awake," stated the face of Albus Dumbledore. "How are you feeling?"

"I ache. Everywhere." Said Severus with much practiced cynicism. "What happened?"

"Well, I'm sure with a little rest all the aches and pains will clear up. Don't worry about your classes, Minerva has them covered for now until….."

"Until what? I notice you're not telling me what happened, so I can only assume that an accident in my classroom has left me incapacitated for now. I also assume from your first statement that I have been unconscious for some time. I would like to know _immediately _how long I have been unconscious, what kind of accident has occurred and precisely why it has caused me to miss my first lesson since I started teaching here." Severus looked around for the first time at the other faces present. Albus Dumbledore, obviously, Poppy Pomfrey, Minerva McGonagall and Hermione Granger. '_Granger?_' he thought, '_What in Merlin's name is she doing here?_'

"There has indeed been an accident," Dumbledore began but was immediately cut short.

"_Really?_ Well, I am glad to have been informed, funnily enough I had not, as yet, figured that part out for myself."

"You've been in my care here for the last two days, Severus," said Madam Pomfrey. "And I suggest you stay here a while longer even though you have regained consciousness. I would hate for your condition to worsen."

"My condition?! I want answers and I want them now!"

"Oh professor I'm so sorry," came the voice of Hermione Granger. "I think this is my fault, I just can't figure out how."

"Keep talking." Snape's comment was short and brusque.

"My potion for self supported study, it, oh it sounds really silly and superficial, it was my mum who gave me the idea, she was always saying she wished she could be my age again, just for a day, so I came up with my thesis, modify some of the anti-aging potions that are already on the cosmetics market, I was using those but placing extra charms on the base ingredients, and I was adapting a form of the Shrinking Solution, mixing the two together, it should have all worked in theory, but it certainly wasn't ready for testing, not yet, and something, I don't know what caused it to explode." She looked on the verge of tears, but something held Snape back from making it any worse for the girl. Then he remembered; Draco putting unwanted ingredients into her cauldron, he knew he had to protect the class, so he dived for it, and received the full brunt of the explosion in the chest.

"It's not your fault," said Snape quietly. "Just tell me what has happened to me."

With a slight smirk Minerva passed him a mirror. The shock of what he saw hit him full pelt in the stomach, ran up his chest, into his throat and out of his mouth.

"Fuck me!"


	3. Chapter 3

'_This is some sort of sick joke'_ thought Severus when he saw the reflection in the mirror. It was him, but it was not him, not him as he was now anyway. He looked "Seventeen! I'm a fucking kid! Why haven't I been given the antidote?" There was a decidedly uncharacteristic note of panic in his voice.

It was Hermione who broke the uncomfortable silence that followed his last comment. "There isn't one." She said in a very small voice. Snape glared at her, looking like he was deciding whether to go for the jugular or straight in at the heart. "Yet," she piped up suddenly. "There isn't one _yet_. I haven't worked on it, but I'm sure it wont be long before I find it."

"You have been working on creating a brand new potion and yet you have not had the foresight to be working on an antidote at the same time? Much as it galls me to admit this, I had credited you with far more intelligence than that Miss Granger. 100 points from Gryffindor! No, make that every goddam point your stupid little house has earned so far! You'll be in detention all year for this you stupid, dim-witted, think you know-it-all brat!" Severus looked around at the other faces. Poppy was fussing about him 'getting in such a rage, do yourself no favours at all.' Dumbledore remained, as always, passive. Granger looked on the verge of tears. '_Good,_' he thought bitterly. McGonagall's reaction was the only one that worried him. Her earlier smirk had now developed into a look of positive glee.

"I'm very sorry Severus," she said pompously, "But in your current state you are in no fit state to teach. As such, I'm afraid you simply don't have the authority to give or take House points or detentions. I will be covering your lessons for the foreseeable future until we get a temporary replacement or your condition improves. Now, if you don't mind, I wish to have a talk with my Head Girl in private. Miss Granger, would you please care to follow me?" She turned abruptly to leave, Hermione following in her wake.

Once she had convinced herself that her patient would be alright left alone for a while, Pomfrey also turned to leave, to deal with other patients. Dumbledore sat down at the edge of Severus' bed and waited patiently for Severus to speak. He was sat up in bed now, knees tucked into his chest, arms folded around them, hugging himself. Eventually he was able to articulate one of the questions plaguing him. "Why have I lost my job?"

"I assure you Severus, your position at this school is perfectly safe. I simply do not think it wise for you to be teaching at the moment. I do not think Voldemort will be too pleased to find out what has happened to you. Therefore it is best that this be kept secret from as many people as possible for as long as possible."

"Oh Gods, I can't go into his inner circle like this. I'll be ripped apart." Involuntarily he shuddered slightly. The Dark Lord would most likely find this to be both utterly hilarious and absolutely enraging. He would provide entertainment for a while, but felt sure that the Death Eaters would soon tire of torturing him and simply leave him to die.

"I don't think that is something you need to worry about. Look at your arm Severus." Confused, he looked down at his left forearm. Nothing. No ugly scar. No Dark Mark. Not even a shadow. Nothing at all to suggest it had ever been there. "Looks as though you've been given another second chance."

He tried blinking away the tears for several seconds before he allowed himself to cry openly in front of Dumbledore. For the first time in twenty years, he was free.

After a couple of minutes he began to feel foolish for allowing such an overt display of emotion in front of Dumbledore. He wasn't 'free' at all. Far from it. "I cannot keep this a secret, Albus. Too many people already know."

"I think we can trust those who know to keep quiet."

"Malfoy knows. He was there, he must have seen what happened. Chances are he has already written a very interesting and detailed letter to his father. The Dark Lord will know about this before the day is over."

"It has clearly been a long time since you spoke to Mr Malfoy junior. Honestly Severus, I believe you're losing touch with your students." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled slightly as he gave a half-smile. "The rest of the students have been informed that you are simply on an extended holiday, using the opportunity to gather some rather rare exotic potion ingredients. I believe that should keep you out of trouble for the time being. Professor Vector will be the acting head of Slytherin." Dumbledore got up to leave, allowing Severus time with his own rather jumbled thoughts. Turning back, he said, "Find Draco, Severus. Talk to him. I think he needs your advice more than you can imagine."

"Who am I going to say that I am to everyone else? Come off it Dumbledore, it's going to be pretty obvious to anyone with more than half an IQ point that I am Severus Snape, evil potions master extraordinaire."

"I'm sure you'll think of something, my boy. Tell anyone who asks that you're a long lost cousin; you can be an incredibly convincing actor when you want to be. Good day Severus." With a flourish, he turned around and walked out.

'_Bloody hell. Long lost cousin? As if anyone will fall for that_' thought Snape as he watched Dumbledore vanish down the hallway.


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione Granger was now sat in McGonagall's office, openly discussing what had happened to Snape.

"Is there any remaining sample of the potion left at all dear? I know we've been through this, but it really would make finding a solution that much easier." McGonagall looked tired and worn; clearly all the extra lessons she was giving were already beginning to take their toll.

Hermione was feeling a little surprised; a few moments ago they had been in the hospital wing and it seemed to take all of McGonagall's effort not to openly laugh at Snape. Now they were back in her office she seemed genuinely concerned. '_Clearly the animosity is only skin deep,' _she thought. _'They really must care for him.'_ "I'm sorry professor," she said out loud, "there really isn't anything left of it. I'm pretty sure I can remember what I'd done already, so I can make another batch - it'll take about a month though…." Her voice trailed off, expecting some sort of rebuke from her Head of House. Instead she received an enormous, and rather cheeky grin.

"Don't worry dear, I think that's a perfectly lovely amount of time for Severus to stir in his own juices. Merlin knows, if anyone needs to learn to be young again, it's him!"

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'Professor' Severus Snape was having quite a hard time learning to be young again. Firstly he had found that his robes no longer fitted him. Certainly they were a good three or four inches too long now, but this was nothing he couldn't transfigure. This was until Albus had told him he couldn't go around in teaching robes anymore. Oh no, instead he had been forced to transfigure them into something far more 'young' and 'fashionable.' Two words he absolutely detested. At least he had been allowed to keep to his trademark black. He could almost,_ almost_, have coped if the old headmaster hadn't decided to spring some more 'news' on him.

"Well, Severus, the way I see it, if you are going to keep up the pretense that you are seventeen, I feel it best for you to come to lessons. After all, you are still of the age where education is necessary." Dumbledore's twinkling eyes only served to anger Severus further. At that moment he would have liked nothing more than to knock the old man's smile from his face, but a grudging respect for him held him back.

"We are both fully aware, _headmaster,_ that I am _not_ of the age where education is still necessary. I refuse, absolutely point blank, to go along with this ridiculous exercise."

"It's for your own safety Sev…."he was cut short by Severus' incredulous reply.

"_For my own safety?_ I thought it was safest for as few people to know about me as possible. That was your original statement."

"Surely you wouldn't prefer to remain absolutely, strictly confined to your own rooms for the duration of this little trial?"

"Yes." Snape's reply was predictable.

"Well, I'm sorry my boy, but I wont allow it. You can tell your _classmates,_" Severus cringed at Dumbledore's use of the word, "that you are a cousin, and an exchange student from Durmstrang, here for the foreseeable future. Here is your timetable," he handed Snape a piece of parchment, "I expect you to be in class first thing in the morning."

Once again, Albus turned to go, leaving Snape with his own thoughts. He had, on the positive side, been allowed to stay in his own private room, and was not forced to share a dormitory with any other adolescent males. On the negative side, he had had his supply of Firewhisky confiscated because he was, in the eyes of his meddling colleague Minerva, 'underage for alcohol.' He had disputed this adamantly but she eventually won. She had not, however, been able to confiscate his tobacco, and so now he considered the possibility of whether or not he could smoke himself to death before classes started in the morning. He looked at his timetable. Care of Magical Creatures. It was nearing midnight which meant he had about nine hours before lessons began. Even if that wasn't enough time to poison his lungs properly in, he decided to give it a damn good try.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N - **Meenyrocks** - Yeah, I wasn't sure of that - I just thought that keeping the drinking age at 18 would add a nice little torment for Snape - so nothing but kicks there!

**Sarah** - Eek! I'm so sorry for short chapters - its the only way I can update regularly and keep on top of uni work! You're gonna kill me, cos I'm afraid this one's pretty short too! Anyways, most of the story is already written - A lot of the chapters are pretty short, but the later ones are longer I promise.......

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_'Well,'_ thought Hermione as she sat down to dinner in the Great Hall, _'today was certainly interesting_. Snape had been in their lessons today, and he seemed determined, if nothing else, that his identity be discovered rather than remain secret. He had explained away his presence with the false identity of Archimedes Snape, a cousin who attended Durmstrang and was here on an exchange for the foreseeable future to continue his education. The only problem then was his complete and utter unwillingness to actually _learn_ anything. He had been disinterested through both the morning's Care of Magical Creatures lesson, and the afternoon's lecture on Transfiguration. He made biting comments towards the other professors, complained about their teaching methods and announced that all he had been 'illuminated towards was the sheer lack of professional tutoring the school offered.' _'The man's an arsehole,_' she thought finally. _'An absolute idiot. Why then can't I stop thinking about him?'_ It was true. Since she had seen him in the hospital wing he had dominated practically every waking thought she had. He had an unusual look to him – he was tall, overly thin, still had the same haircut, the same large nose, but somehow, _somehow_, he was also incredibly cute along with it. His eyes had seemed far more alive than usual, sparkling and bright rather than dead and numbed. Even his broody, malevolent nature seemed instead to give him an air of confident arrogance that rather than being nasty seemed quite _sexy._ _'Oh Gods,'_ she thought as she swallowed a mouthful of vegetable stew, _'I just thought of Snape as sexy!'_ The thought made her nearly choke, which didn't go unnoticed by Harry or Ron.

"What's up Mione?" asked Ron, using her pet name.

"Just thinking about today. You know. About _him._" Although they had been told strictly not to mention the incident in potions to anyone, both Harry and Hermione had come straight to Ron and told him everything.

"I know. Can you imagine what it'd be like if they never got him back to normal? I mean, you guys had have better potions lessons yeah, but, what if he wanted to start hanging out with us or something." Ron shivered. "Euch, that's just too gross to think about."

Harry cut in, "I know, Hermione, McGonagall's asked you to work on some kind of cure right?" Hermione nodded. "Well, can you delay finding it for as long as possible? I doubt he'll suddenly decide to be our best mates, so I think your worst case scenario is safe Ron. But not having him in potions is an absolute blessing."

She smiled. "I'll do my best guys. You're right, it will be nice not to have him complaining about us every minute of the day." _'I'll delay it as much as possible. But not for the same reasons.'_

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Severus Archimedes Snape sat contemplating the day he had just experienced. If he was forced, as it seemed, to go along with Dumbledore's plan of pretending to be a Durmstrang student, he decided he'd play up to the role as much as he possibly could, especially in any lesson run by Minerva.

The most shocking thing about the day had been discovering that his disguise was blindly accepted by every student in school. No one had questioned a thing about it. Then again, the two most intelligent students in the school knew anyway; Hermione and Draco. Both of whom he would have to deal with in one way or another soon – he would be working on an antidote with Hermione, and Draco he would have to track down and talk to, on Dumbledore's advice.

He walked over to his window. It was a clear night, frosty, and the stars were shining brightly down on the towers of Hogwarts, illuminating everything in a ghostly, silvery light. He looked over towards the Astronomy Tower, and could vaguely make out the form of someone sat on the roof. He squinted his eyes for a better look, and noticed that it was a male someone. A blond male someone. Draco. The perfect opportunity to talk to him alone. Snape whirled around, grabbed his cloak and made his way as fast as he could towards the Tower.


	6. Chapter 6

He reached the Tower in silence, Draco appeared not to have noticed him at all. He was sat very still staring out at the velvet star-speckled sky.

"I wondered when you'd be coming to find me professor." Draco's sudden comment caught him slightly by surprise.

Severus climbed out on to the flat roof and sat next to his pupil. "Then maybe you would care to open this discussion. I daresay you have more of an idea why I am here than I do."

"You're here because you're worried. You're worried about being found by the Dark Lord. You're worried that I will tell my father what has happened to you. You're here to persuade me, in whatever way you see fit not to go to him." Severus once again found himself caught off balance. Draco had grown to be an incredibly insightful young man. "I can tell you know, I'm not anything you should be worrying about."

"Keep talking."

"You think I've always been ready for nothing but becoming his next great Death Eater." He smiled tightly to himself. "It's the last thing I want."

Snape watched him closely. He was sufficient enough atlegilimency to know whenan untruth was uttered in him presence.There was no trace of a lie whatsoever in him. "It's all an act then? All this hatred towards others? This unswerving pride in what your father has accomplished in the service of The Dark Lord?"

Draco turned to look at him. "Not dissimilar to yourself really."

The two sat in silence for a while longer. Draco didn't need to speak anymore to Snape. They were indeed in very similar positions. Both had to keep up an act to stop the wrong people from discovering the truth about them.

"He writes to me regularly. Father that is. I shall be turning eighteen in under three months and father thinks that me getting branded will be an ideal birthday gift. I can't say no to him, he would have no qualms about killing his own son. But i have no desire to join." Once again, he fell into silence, looking out towards the stars, searching for answers.

_'Albus was right. I have lost touch with my students,' _thought Snape rather bitterly. _'How many other people are going through this torment that I am abandoning them to?'_

"You will be safe here. Dumbledore will not let you be harmed if you go to him. He will provide you with amnesty."

"They're looking for you." Draco's comment appeared to be unrelated to his statement. "You believe to have amnesty here, but they're looking for you. Father asks me for regular reports on where you are. I've told them nothing."

"Thankyou." Snape felt humbled by the young man he was sat with. He had not credited him with even the remotest bit of compassion, and yet he was putting his own life on the line by lying. "And I promise you, you will be safe. I shall ensure it personally." With that he left the boy to his own thoughts.

The walk back to his own chambers seemed to take an age. His mind wandered back to the night he himself had received the Dark Mark. It had been his eighteenth birthday also. He vividly recalled the cold, harsh, January winds whipping at his face. The scores of other Death Eaters, all watching from behind their masks, unable to determine who was who. How everything in the world stood still; even the wind held its breath as he pledged his soul to serve Voldemort. He remembered how the Dark Lord had cradled his face almost lovingly before rolling back his sleeve, pressing his wand to the pale skin on his forearm, and whispering a spell no one could hear. The intense heat and pain as the Mark burned into him. How determined he was not to allow the pain to make him pass out. He was sure he hadheard someone snicker behind their mask as he was unable to supress a small whimper. Some birthday present....

But most of all he remembered the lies that had driven him there in the first place. The wish for some kind of respect, for some small grasp of power to get back at those who had made his life a living hell, both at school and at home. Fear of his father had driven him to this too. His father was already among Voldemort's minions and had made it no small secret that if Severus did not follow in his footsteps his punishment would be terminal.

He remembered mastering the killing curse, and using it on his first victim. A young muggle girl - probably only just eighteen, the same as him. If he closed his eyes he could still see the terror in her eyes as she begged for her life, not understanding why she had been chosen, nor understanding that this nightmare was real. Up until thenhe hadused cruciatus on people, and not thinking about what that meant for his victims. He had been cold and callous - he had suffered needlessly in his life, so why should he care if others were now? But looking down into to her lifeless eyes, seeing the sheer finality of death, that had been the turning point for Severus. That moment he realised what he had to do, and that the only person whom he could turn to was Dumbledore. He had been ready to confess all and spend his life in Azkaban. Hefelt that with precious few happy memories anyway, life with the dementors wouldn't be so different to his life outside of prison. But Dumbledore had offered him a way out - a way to redeem himself. And he had been trapped leading this wretched double existence since.

His musings had led him all the way back to his bedroom door. Andhe realised, for the first time ever, that he was not the only person to feel torn and trapped between two worlds, and vowed to himself that he would see Draco safe if it was the last thing he ever did.


	7. Chapter 7

An alarm clock was buzzing insistently and had been for quite some time. It's owner had been ignoring it for as long as it had been buzzing. It had been placed over the other side of the room with the intention that it would force the owner to get out of bed to turn it off. Eventually a groggy arm managed to find a wand on the floor. A muttered _accio_ sent the clock flying into its owners arms. A couple of seconds later the clock was smashed into tiny pieces on the floor.Slowly, Severus forced his mind to clear slightly. There had to be a logical reason why he had set his clock to wake him up at such an ungodly hour._'Think, Severus, you bastard, think.' _He came to the conclusion that whatever it was, it was clearly unimportant, and set himself to the task of falling back to sleep. No luck. Something was nagging him at the back of his mind. With an incoherent grunt he rolled out of bed, forcing himself to get up and get moving. With a great deal of effort he was able to get washed and dressed, and set his mind to the task of trying to remember what was nagging at him.

It was early on Saturday morning. Way too early. No matter how hard Severus willed his body to move more coherently it simply wasn't happening. He still couldn't even remember why he was awake at such an hour. He took the first sip of a cup of coffee and while waiting for the caffeine to take effect he realised with absolute relief that he had no bloody awful lessons to attend today. His relief was short lived when he suddenly remembered the reason he was up so early. He checked his pocket watch. Half past seven. He checked his diary. He checked his pocket watch again. Still half past seven. Downing the rest of the coffee he forced his legs into action and made for the dungeons, leaving his diary open on a page that read 'Saturday 10th November. Seven o'clock. Hermione Granger.'

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Hermione was getting furious. She had been up at an unreasonable hour so that she and Professor Snape could begin to work on an antidote without fear of interruption and he did not have the courtesy to turn up! She could think of any number of things that would be more constructive to her time than waste her mornings on the most hated teacher at Hogwarts, especially with the indubitable knowledge that he would spend all their time together lacing her with insults. She checked the time. Twenty minutes to eight. She decided that forty minutes of wasted time was quite enough to spend on him and stormed out of the door only to bump into Snape himself. She was caught completely off balance and found herself on the floor. Instinctively she reached a hand out, asking for aid in getting up and said, "I didn't think you were coming."

Snape ignored the proffered hand, stepped over her and walked into the classroom saying, "I trust, Miss Granger, that the difference in my outward appearance has not given you cause to forget the use of formalities."

"I...."

"I am, after all, still your tutor, and as such you will address me either as 'Sir' or 'Professor.' I leave the choice to you."

If she had been furious before, now she was positively seething. She clambered to her feet and glared at him. "I'm sorry, _professor, sir,_" she spat out, "I obviously forgot my place. Shall we get started, _professor, sir?_"

"Miss Granger," he began, "I may be unable to issue punishments as of the now, but rest assured, every time you put a toe out of line I will remember, and of course your punishments will be reimbursed at a later date. Now, let us get this done."

She decided not to rise to the bait. Instead they began the laborious task of working through Hermione's many, many notes.

"Did you think of filing these in even a vague semblance of order?" said Severus in exasperation at the piles of paper he was presented with. Hermione gritted her teeth. She looked at his scowling countenance out of the corner of her eye, and chided herself for thinking earlier in the week that he was good looking. _'There's no way anyone that bitter could ever be cute,'_ she thought as she bent her head to work.

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Snape looked over at the young girl he was working with. They had been sat in silence together for nearly two hours, and deep within him a cynical bitterness was stirring – a deep desire to spit out an acid-laced remark to stop the girl from becoming complacent with his presence. However, he had read and re-read the documents before him many times over and the ingenuity and originality of the girl's work stopped any biting comments from coming. She had been very thorough – her thought processes (although clearly not her organizational skills) were very much akin to his own, a trait he had hitherto not noticed in her. The girl certainly has potential. _'She's not really a girl anymore,'_ thought Snape then stopped himself instantly. Possibly the biggest drawback of being trapped inside the body of a teenage boy was the sudden influx of uncontrollable hormones he was having to learn to deal with. He turned his gaze sharply back towards the notes on his desk, spilling a mug of coffee in the process. The sudden flurry of movement served only to capture Hermione's attention, which given his current rather lusty thoughts, was certainly less than desirable. She made no move to help him clear up the mess but instead stared even more intensely. He felt his face begin to flush slightly and the uncommon feeling of embarrassment aided him in finding his acid remark he had been searching for earlier.

"Miss Granger, if you would care to shift your attention span outwards for once, perhaps you would assist me in cleaning this up." Before him many of the documents were now drenched in coffee, the ink writing on them beginning to spread.

Hermione was looking at her work in horror, seemingly frozen. She rose to the bait of his challenge. "It's not my fault. If you've ruined my notes...."

"Ah yes. Your work. Your grades. The only bloody thing that you care about." He allowed his voice to rise slightly in anger.

"How dare you?!" she bit back. "I care about loads of things which is more than can be said about you!"

"You are overstepping your mark, miss." With a wave of his hand the coffee mess was gone and the drenched papers, indecipherable a few moments ago, were restored.

"If you could do that all along, then why the hell didn't you do it straight away, instead of moaning to me about it?" asked Hermione, her voice dripping with indignation.

"Because I wanted to see if you really are all that bright under pressure. McGonagall has always thought you to be. Clearly I'm going to have to correct her."

"Fine," she said, standing up and beginning to clear away all her work. "Fine. If I'm really that useless, you can do this by yourself. I'm not putting myself out for a bitter, twisted old man. You need to grow up. Oh, I'm sorry. Without me, you can't!" Papers in her hands, she stormed out of the dungeons.

Snape watched her go open mouthed. He hadn't intended for it to go that far. He rolled himself a cigarette, the repetitive action calming his nerves. He lit it and inhaled deeply before banging his head down on the desk before him. "Fucking Gryffindors!" he shouted to the empty classroom. He was sure that given enough time he could work on a cure himself, but with no research save what he could remember of Hermione's, that could take years. The only thing for him to do would be to apologize to the _girl_, stressing that word very clearly in his head. Deep down, however, he felt he would rather face all of Voldemort's wrath than have to face her.


	8. Chapter 8

Later that evening Severus found himself back in his own chambers without having made any attempt to reconcile the situation with Hermione. He simply couldn't face it just yet. Admitting defeat this early on would be too humiliating. What he really wanted was a glass of warm brandy, a regular Saturday evening reward for staying sane for a whole week, although his 'eighteenth' birthday wasn't until the new year, and McGonagall was still imposing this ridiculous rule about him not drinking.

It had been an incredibly long and tiring week. Feeling the need for some kind of relaxation in the absence of alcohol, he decided on running a hot bath. Precisely what he needed. Easing himself into the scalding hot water, he lay back, gently massaging his temples and recalled the hectic week. It served only to bring Miss Granger into the foreground of his mind once more. Although she was the cause of his latest humiliation, (and it was, he kept reminding himself, humiliating,) he found it hard to find the anger that would usually have been so accessible, were anyone else responsible. She certainly had grown up over the past year. She was probably the only student in the whole school with enough talent in potions to help him find a cure, so for that he was thankful. She was also, however, the only student in the whole school with enough talent to have put him in this state in the first place. And yet he still couldn't feel his customary anger towards her.

She had come to be quite attractive, in a way. Her hair, once tremendously bushy and uncontrollable had grown longer, the extra weight forcing it down instead of out, into soft, loose curls. Her figure was trim, almost athletic, but with enough feminine curves to be aesthetically pleasing. And, above all, she was devastatingly clever.

The combination of thoughts about this young woman, with the hot bath water, and the extra hormones was causing an unwelcome, but familiar reaction. "Fuck it," he hissed at his growing erection. The last thing he needed was to compound the problem by accepting that he suddenly found one of his students attractive. He tried remembering formulae for increasingly difficult potions, and when this did not work he tried picturing Dumbledore and McGonagall mid-coitus. "Ugghh," he shuddered at the thought, although his arousal stubbornly refused to leave. Closing his eyes, he resigned himself to getting rid of the problem in the way he really hadn't wanted to. He reached down, grasping himself in a tight fist, moving at first slowly, then faster and faster until, with a growl deep in his throat, he released. He lay back in the water for a few moments, breathing deeply, until a feeling of revulsion took him over. _"Oh Gods,"_ he thought to himself, _"She's a student you dirty bastard!"_ He quickly got out of the water, vigorously toweled himself off, and went back into his bedroom, carefully avoiding looking in any mirrors. Feeling utterly ashamed he slipped under the covers, and lay awake looking at the ceiling for several hours, completely unable to sleep.

--------------

The rest of the weekend passed without much incident, and come Monday morning, Severus had put Hermione out of his mind. He knew he still had to apologise, or at least get back on speaking terms, but he certainly wasn't going to go crawling back to her on bended knee. Instead he began to form a plan in his mind, a plan that would force her to come to him. With a slight smirk, and feeling on the whole much better at the prospect of being forced to go to a charms lesson with the girl, he decided to make an early start to the day, and make a rare appearance in the Great Hall for breakfast.

--------------

As she stormed out of the dungeons on Saturday morning, Hermione wanted nothing more than to put as much distance between herself and Snape as possible. Her anger was directed mostly at his attitude towards her, his unwillingness to accept help from any quarter, but also at herself. He had been deliberately provoking her to see if she would rise to the bait, probably more out of habit than anything else. And she had risen to the bait.

She headed straight towards the library, feeling that as she had already wasted the best part of the morning, she could at least rectify this by getting in a good solid few hours of studying. As she poured over a massive tome of advanced Arithmancy, she found her mind beginning to wander back to the dungeons. She kept thinking that maybe she shouldn't have been so quick to anger with him. After all, he was under a considerable amount of pressure. _'I'll apologise,'_ she thought to herself, _'but not now. Let him stew for a bit.'_ With this in mind, she felt far more relaxed and put Snape out of her thoughts. She had far more important things to occupy her mind over than the fact that he would be feeling decidedly unhappy and nervous over the weekend. The rest of the day passed, happily flitting her time between studying, and watching Harry and Ron's latest antics, who, in the absence of Fred and George, had both stepped in to take the place of resident Gryffindor pranksters.

Later she found herself sat in the Gryffindor common room, watching the fire and with nothing more stressful than usual bothering her. A sleepy, dreamy feeling came over her, switched her onto automatic pilot until she made her way to her room, and fell asleep as soon as her head touched the pillows.

--------------

_She was lying, naked next to someone. She didn't know who it was but that didn't matter. An air of contentment was washed over them both. He shifted slightly in his sleep, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck, his black hair spilling down over her shoulders. She wrapped both her arms around him and bent down to kiss his forehead, gently rousing him from slumber. _

_The scene shifted; they were sat up in bed together, kissing passionately, hands tracing the lines of each other's back._

_Shift; suddenly he was lying her on her back and positioning himself over her._

_Shift; they were together, making love, completely in time with each other's rhythm. She had yet to see his face, but still she wasn't concerned - she trusted this man implicitly, and besides she didn't need to see his face. She instinctively whispered her lover's name as his ministrations caused her to climax._

_"Severus…"_

--------------

She awoke with a start. Through a gap in the curtains, she could see a shaft of sunlight shining through the window, illuminating a pile of books and notes dumped on the floor. Her breathing was fast and shallow, her face felt warm and flushed. She jumped straight out of bed and ran to a small stone basin in the corner of her room, splashed some cold water on her face and looked at her reflection in the mirror. _'Merlin,'_ she thought, _'Why him? Out of anyone you could've dreamed about, why him?'_ There was absolutely no way she would be able to apologise now. She wouldn't be able to look him the face without that image coming into her head. Worse than that, the more she thought about it, the more she quite liked the image. He'd take one look into her eyes and know everything she had seen. No. There was no way she could go to him but…….

She smiled very slightly. A plan was already forming in her mind, a plan that would force him to come to her. Her smile broke out into a grin; this would work, it had to…….

--------------


	9. Chapter 9

A/N- Ok, another uber short chapter. But I am updating staright away with a second uber short chapter. I toyed with the idea of putting them together into one longer chapter, but I think they work better separately. Let me know if you think otherwise. Cheers!

-

It had to work due to its sheer simplicity. All the girl cared about were grades and house points. And seeing as how he was not in a position to directly affect those himself ...well, he'd just have to improvise. The easiest way to do this? Polyjuice. He kept a supply of the base ready made as it was a popular topic of research for his older students. All he needed was a sample of that, and a sample of a teacher that she would listen to. Who better than McGonagall? She'd be bound to listen to that old crone. The only problem would lie in getting her out of the way for a couple of hours. '_I'm resourceful,_' he thought. '_I'm sure I can think of something.'_ His thoughts carried him to the Great Hall where he resumed his usual seat next to Minerva. She was looking daggers at him, her mouth open in an expression of utter incredulation.

"What?" he said, with as much insolence as possible.

"I should have thought it obvious _what_!" she hissed at him through clenched teeth. "You are supposed to be a student! You've just taken a seat at the teacher's table! Get out of here!"

'_Shit,'_ he thought, as the little colour he usually had drained from his face. Thankfully not many people had yet come down to breakfast, but the one's who were in there gave him looks of complete disbelief. He quickly stood up and made his way back round to the Slytherin table, but not before the opportunist in him saw a single hair on the back of McGonagall's robes. Deftly he picked it up and pocketed it, thinking that at least some good had come of him making an absolute fool of himself.

-

Through the Charms class, Hermione seemed to be avoiding him even more than he would have thought normal. '_Suits me fine,_' he thought as he watched her practice an engorgement charm on a chess piece. The small bishop went from being a couple of inches high to taller than a man. With a wave of her wand, it went back to the normal size. He couldn't help but admire the deftness of her wand movements, the clarity of her speech. It was no wonder she was practically the only person in the class to get everything correct straight away. There was no doubt about it, she was going to make an incredibly powerful witch.

He didn't realise quite how much he'd been staring until she suddenly looked up and caught his eye. Embarrassed, he went straight back to work on his own chess piece, and in his haste made the little knight grow so rapidly that it exploded, leaving everyone in the room covered in white dust. For a split second she looked as though she was going to come over and say something, but then thought better of it, and joined in with the moans and laughter from the rest of the group.

He felt like he really was seventeen all over again. Anger began to well up inside him, and without a backwards glance, he stormed from the room.

-

She watched as, with a flourish of his cloak, he vanished from the room.

She was quite sure he'd been watching her, in fact she'd bet on it. Not just for a little while either, but for what seemed like at least ten minutes. The pressure of being watched like that had made her concentrate extra hard on her work, and for a long time she had forced herself not to look up at him. When she finally did, what she saw almost took her breath away. Before he disguised it with the embarrassment, which in turn caused the accident, which in turn caused him more embarrassment and then anger, before all that she saw, was it wanting? It looked like that to her. And she liked it. No-one had ever looked at her like that, even if it had only been for a few seconds. Her immediate reaction had been to approach him, but she thought it best not appear on too friendly terms, so she joined in with the rest of her class mates. Her second thought had been, _'should I abandon my idea?'_ That, she thought, was out of the question. After all, he had been an arsehole towards her, and besides, she had been very keen on the look he had just given her, very keen, and the thought of him coming to her to apologise was really rather appealing. She'd go ahead with it as soon as possible. Smiling, she got back to work.


	10. Chapter 10

It would work due to its sheer simplicity. There were only two people in the world that he would be likely to listen to – Dumbledore and McGonagall. If she could just transform into one of them, she could easily put him in his place. That would, of course, be the complicated part. The ideal solution would be to use polyjuice, but she didn't want to have to wait a month to torment him, so a different approach would be needed. She recalled Professor McGonagall mentioning during Transfiguration a spell that would allow the user to change their appearance to that of another person for a short period of time. It seemed immensely complicated, and would only allow her to transform for about ten minutes, but that would be enough. Reading up on the spell, she realised that it would be far easier for her to become McGonagall than Dumbledore, as the spell had to be modified for cross-gender transformations, and she barely had time to master it as it was. She also decided it would be best if she could do it the following weekend – the first Hogsmeade trip of the year was planned for Saturday and McGonagall would be overseeing it, meaning she'd be unlikely to run into her whilst transformed, which would lead to all sorts of awkward questions. That left her just a couple of days to perfect the spell. Hard work, but worth it.

-

The perfect opportunity to use the polyjuice would come up at the weekend. Severus overheard some students talking about the first Hogsmeade visit of the year, and how McGonagall would be supervising. Hermione, now in her NEWT year would be unlikely to go – the girl would have a far more pressing engagement with the library – so if he caught her early in the day on the premise of wanting to talk some sense into her before leaving to supervise the students... The timing would tight, but of course, it was possible. With greater resolve, and a feeling that finally Granger would get her come-uppance, Severus forced himself to make it through the rest of the week.

-

The more she thought about it, the more perfect it was. He wouldn't be going on the Hogsmeade trip – he'd rather kill himself than be forced to endure a fun day out with other students – so as long as she caught him early on the pretense of wanting to speak to him before leaving to oversee the trip... The timing would be very tight, but it would give her a good excuse to leave early before the spell wore off. She smiled to herself as she imagined the look on his face when 'McGonagall' told him to stop behaving like a spoiled little child. All in all, she couldn't wait for the weekend...


	11. Chapter 11

Saturday morning came and Severus found himself up at the crack of dawn, pacing his room like a caged cat waiting for the kill. Although he hated admitting it to himself, he was feeling pretty nervous about the day's coming events. There were far more factors which could go wrong than he cared to think about. Unfortunately, thinking about them was one of the only things he found himself able to do.

As soon as his clock struck nine he reached for the small bottle of pre-prepared polyjuice that was on his desk top, into which he dropped the single hair found on McGonagall's robes. He stoppered and pocketed the bottle before leaving the room, robes billowing out behind him.

In the Great Hall he found himself unable to eat anything. Malfoy was talking with him, trying to persuade him to come to Hogsmeade, but he was only half listening. With a sudden pang of guilt at ignoring the boy whom he had promised to look out for only a week ago, he promised himself he'd make time to talk with him later. But for now he had other things to deal with. Granger came down to the hall soon after, Potter and Weasley in her wake. Was it his imagination, or did she keep looking over at him more than usual? Apprehension was rising in him, so he forced himself to tear his gaze away from her and instead focused on his coffee.

-

The first thing she'd noticed when she arrived in the Great Hall that morning was Snape. His eyes followed her all the way to the table, and every time she looked up she caught is eyes – he was watching her as if he knew! The thought almost caused her to choke.

"I know 'Mione! Three and a half feet! An essay worthy of you, if I say so myself," said Ron.

"What are you talking about Ronald?" Hermione had been in a world of her own, and her brain was only just starting to catch up with the conversation Harry and Ron had been lost in.

"I was saying that I managed three and a half feet on the mountain troll riots of '34. Finished it last night, and all without help. Thought you'd be proud."

"Oh, yes Ron, very," she replied vaguely. "But then, of course, their names are about seven hundred letters long, so three and a half isn't all that difficult, even by your standards."

"Thanks for the confidence vote, 'Mione," replied Ron, his ears going red. "Anyway, what are you so interested in? You haven't stopped looking over at the Slytherin table since we got in."

"Snape," she answered before realising what she was saying. "I mean, he hasn't stopped looking over at us yet."

"Wonder what the greasy git wants," said Harry, throwing an evil look over his shoulder. "So, you coming to Hogsmeade with us then? We're running pretty short on a few essential supplies."

"By essential supplies, I suppose you mean Stink Bombs, biting quills, that sort of thing."

"Well," said Harry grinning, "now that you mention it..."

"Not today, sorry guys. I'm..."

"Spending the day in the library." Finished Harry and Ron together.

"Am I really that predictable?" She asked as she got up to leave, swinging her bag over her shoulder.

"Only as far as boring things like studying are concerned. Catch you later then," said Ron, as he turned all his attention back to his bacon and eggs.

-

He watched her get up to leave, and making his own excuses to his companions at the Slytherin table, followed her out. At the same time McGonagall rose and headed towards the front gates, ready to escort the student body into Hogsmeade. This was it. No turning back now.

-

She noticed that he had got up to leave as she had, and also that McGonagall was getting ready for her trip. This was it. She couldn't back out now. Turning down a side corridor, she hid behind a stone statue of Rhiannon the Righteous and performed the complex transmorphing spell, making sure she also transfigured her robes. A few seconds later she stepped out, looking for all the world exactly like Minerva McGonagall.

-

He saw her heading down a side corridor, and decided to follow her down there once he had transformed. He quickly hid behind some armour, transfigured his robes, and downed the potion. A few seconds later he stepped out, looking like McGonagall, and headed down the corridor to find her. What he found instead was Minerva McGonagall heading towards him, her mouth open in a look of absolute shock.

-

As she walked back down the corridor towards him, someone else rounded the corner. The last person she wanted to see today – Professor McGonagall! She looked utterly horrified at seeing herself. Tears began to well up in Hermione's eyes – the best thing to do would be to just confess.

"Professor, I can explain..."she said at the exact same time as the other McGonagall saying, "Minerva, I can explain..."

As they stood there gaping at each other, in a state of utter confusion as to what to do next, the only person who could make the situation even worse rounded the corner. The real Professor McGonagall.

"What in the name of Sweet Lord Merlin is going on here?" she roared, leaving her two clones trembling slightly.

The two fakes turned slowly back towards each other. "Run?" said one. "Run," the other replied.


	12. Chapter 12

Aly spy - it is quite possible that you've read this story before - it was once published under a different pen name. However, my account was somehow deleted after the bug at the end of last year. So I'm re-publishing them now.

Everyone else - thanks for all the fabulous reviews. Not that I need my ego feeding, but it's really feeding my ego. Thanks!

-

It was really quite remarkable how sharp McGonagall's reactions were, considering her advancing years. In quick succession she fired off two impediment jinxes, efficiently halting her two imposters in the act of running away. It was also remarkable how quickly she managed to march them to her office. What was most remarkable of all, however, was the fact that when the two spells wore off, and she saw that the imposters were none other than her golden Head Girl Hermione Granger, and former colleague Severus Snape, she didn't simply give up and die of shock. Instead she focused all of her energy on maintaining a forced calm, which was far scarier than it would have been had she exploded.

"Explain." No more needed to be said.

Neither of them seemed able to look her in the eye. Eventually it was Hermione who broke the silence. "I'm sorry professor, it was really stupid-"

"Well, at least you can admit it! Would you mind telling me why you saw fit to impersonate a teacher?"

She took a deep breath and sighed. "Because _he,_" she shot a sideways glance at Snape who looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh, "is an absolute arsehole, and I wanted to teach him a lesson."

McGonagall regarded her for a moment. "That is true," she said,"But not a good enough answer to my question."

"I'm sorry professor. That's all I have."

She now focused on Snape, who was beginning to look rather bored. "And what about you? I do hope your reason is better than the one given by Miss Granger."

"Not really, in fact it's pretty much the same one," he replied, not bothering to hide the contempt in his voice.

McGonagall seemed to swell. The explosion that had been brewing since stepping into her office was finally here. "Never, in forty years of teaching, have I been witness to such disgraceful behaviour! You," she screamed, turning her attention onto Snape, "are supposed to be a teacher! I can't believe that even you would stoop this low, and you," she rounded back on Hermione, "Well, let's just say I'm lost for words. The pair of you give me no choice. I'm taking a hundred points from Gryffindor, and a hundred from Slytherin. You've both got detention every night for a month."

Hermione looked to be on the verge of tears. She had never been in such trouble before. Severus, however, was merely smirking. The effect this had was lost somewhat, due to the fact that he was still wearing transfigured robes, and was therefore dressed as an seventy year old woman, but he ploughed on regardless. "You can't do that to me. As you already said, I am a teacher at this school. You can't take House Points away, or give out detentions because of the actions of a teacher."

"Try me. I already have. You will both meet me back here tonight at eight o'clock for your detentions. Do not be late. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a Hogsmeade visit to supervise." With that she left the room, leaving the two miscreants in a rather awkward silence.

After a couple of minutes Hermione, in silence, stood up and walked towards the office door. Just as she stretched out her hand to open it, a voice behind her said, "Miss Granger?"

"What?" she replied abruptly.

"Maybe we should... well... forget... I mean-"

"Maybe we should forget what a bastard you can be, and how stubborn I can be, and get back to working on a solution for you?"

"Something like that," he mumbled.

"Ok, but no more treating me like I'm an inferior, understand?" He nodded briefly, but said nothing. "And-" she hesitated slightly, but carried on anyway, "call me Hermione? I hate 'Miss Granger,' especially if we're working on a project as equals." Again he nodded. "Well, that's settled then. I'm free tomorrow, we can get back to work then. See you later, professor."

Before his mind could stop it, his mouth opened and issued forth the words, "Call me Severus." She smiled at him and left him alone in the office, feeling bewildered at his actions. He'd just told a student to call him by his given name! But then, she was an exceptional student, and that smile she'd flashed him before leaving... it seemed to be burned on the inside of his eyelids; every time he blinked she was there, smiling at him, _smiling at him_... He found himself, completely against his will, looking very much forward to detention in the evening...


	13. Chapter 13

Amr - I understand your point about it not being in Draco's character - but that was precisely the reason why I did it. He only wanted to ruin Hermione's potion to keep up the pretense of being this arrogant arsehole; he didn't realise quite what the full effects of Hermione's potion blowing up would be. I'm thinking of doing a sequel to this once I've finished this one which will go in to Draco's character a bit more With that said, on with the show...

-

When they arrived at McGonagall's office at eight o'clock, they were not the only ones there. Clutching onto his mangy, decrepit cat, Filch stood next to McGonagall, leering at them both, his eyes bulging horribly out of their sockets. Although as unpleasant as ever, he seemed to have lost an awful lot of enthusiasm for punishing students since Umbridge had been forced to leave. Hermione supposed that his change in attitude was because with Dumbledore back in control, he was suddenly no longer allowed to whip students – a pleasure which he had only been granted for a few months before it was once again taken from him.

"Well," said McGonagall, her eyebrows raised, "I'm glad to see that you were able to keep your _own_ appearances tonight. You will be serving your detentions with Mr Filch. You will both do exactly as he says and if I find that you haven't followed his instructions to the letter, I will be most displeased. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, professor," Hermione replied quietly. Snape merely rolled his eyes and sighed very audibly.

"_Do I make myself clear?"_ She repeated more forcefully.

"Yes,_ professor,_" he shot back through gritted teeth.

"Good. Mr Filch, if you will, please."

The old caretaker marched straight out of the room, Hermione following in his wake as if she were going to a funeral. Snape remained behind a few moments.

"I just wanted to tell you, _Minerva,_ that you can be an absolute fucking bitch at times."

She smiled very tightly. "Thank you Severus. It comes with years of practice. So, I suppose I should live up to that reputation and deduct a further ten points for insulting a teacher. Now get to your detention or it'll be fifty."

He gave her a sarcastic smile. "Of course, _professor._" Before he he stormed from the room, slamming the door as hard as he could and thereby causing several books to fall off a nearby shelf, she caught a fleeting image of a long, thin, extended middle finger directed straight at her.

-

The detention wasn't too bad, Hermione mused – it could have been far, far worse. They had to polish, by hand, every single cup, shield and medal in the trophy room. It took a lot of elbow grease, but by far the worst thing about it was the fact that it brought to the front of her mind images of Ron belching up slugs in in their second year, as he had been suffering from that particular ailment whilst having to do a very similar punishment.

Every now and again, when she was certain that Filch wasn't watching, she paused in her work and stole a glance over towards Snape. '_Severus,'_ she reminded herself. '_He asked me to call him Severus.'_ Even in such a mundane task she found herself fascinated by the way he worked. Everything was so precise, so ordered, so much like the way she herself worked. He held each trophy with something akin to reverence as he polished it, and not until he was satisfied that it caught every available piece of light, making it sparkle and shimmer in the candlelight, would he gently set it back in its place.

She tore her gaze from him as she noticed Filch had turned his attention back onto her. Returning to her work, she noticed the next trophy to require her attention. It was a large, golden shield, with the Gryffindor logo in the centre, and seven names etched around the edges. A closer look showed that this was the team that won the Quidditch cup in 1976. One of the names engraved was James Potter. It wasn't the first time Hermione had seen the shield, but this was certainly the closest that she'd been to it. She gently lifted it out of the stand but quickly noticed something else behind it. Hidden out of view behind the enormous Quidditch trophy had been a much smaller, silver shield, now so burnished that the name on it was unreadable. Her curiosity for the small item was overwhelming, so she picked it up, and replaced the Quidditch trophy back in its stand. (She figured it was so well looked after that it didn't need polishing anyway.) Instead she began polishing the small shield as hard as she could, determined to find out who it belonged to and why they had earned it, and why it had been hidden out of sight for so long. It took time, but eventually, under all the grime that it had accumulated through years of being ignored, shone the name "Severus Snape."

The little cry of surprise that she let out at seeing his name engraved on the shield was, thankfully, hidden by Filch suddenly saying. "Midnight. Get to bed you two. What you've not done, you'll do tomorrow." He then turned and slouched out of the room, Mrs Norris following at his heels.

She noticed that Severus was also moving to leave, but she felt she had to ask him about this before he left. "Professor?" She addressed him formally before adding intrepidly, "S-Severus?" She waited for the axe to fall, for him to snap at her for calling him by his given name, despite the fact that he had invited her to. When no blow came she quickly ploughed on. "I found this, and if its not too nosy, would you mind telling me how you got it?"

Severus was looking at her in confusion, but as he came closer to her, and saw the small little object in her hands he was just as unable to contain his surprise as she had been. His eyes flew wide open as he took the shield from her, slowly tracing the outline of his name with a fingertip. "Where did you find this?" he asked her.

"It was hidden behind another trophy." She didn't think it wise to tell him it had been hidden behind something emblazoned with James Potter's name.

"Hmm. Figures. Don't know who put it there but no-one's ever been keen here to celebrate the achievements of anyone from Slytherin, not since the royal fuck up they made over giving that tosser Riddle that bloody award for saving the school." She was looking very slightly shocked at what he had just said. Realising his mistake, he explained himself to her. "I – perhaps it is for the best if we stick to addressing each other more formally Miss Granger. I have a habit of allowing crass language to slip into my vocabulary when I'm not in 'student-teacher' mode."

"Oh that? I hear far worse coming out of Ron's mouth every day. So call me Hermione. No, it's what you said about them being unwilling to celebrate Slytherin's achievements. It must be really hard to get acceptance. I never really thought about it that way."

"Bloody Gryffindor's never do," he mumbled, still tracing his name with his fingers.

"Don't tar us all with the same brush, some of us are trying hard to understand."

"You mean you are trying hard. I doubt very much that that sentiment runs to any of your peers."

"So, what did you do to get it then?"

"I took my Potions NEWT aged sixteen. I believe I'm the youngest person to have achieved an Outstanding grade at NEWT level. I was awarded this in recognition of my abilities. After the presentation I put it in my dormitory, went to dinner that night, and when I came back, it was gone. I asked for everyone to be searched, because it had clearly been stolen, but no one had it. I was never able to find it myself, and no one else took it seriously enough to help me look."

"You took a NEWT aged sixteen? And that's all they gave you?" She sounded absolutely scandalised.

"As I said. The school board have been scared of praising Slytherin achievements for a long time. They think it will somehow inflate our egos more than others. It's something we have to learn to get used to." With that he made a little space on the shelf and carefully set his award down, a slight smile playing about his lips. The difference it made to him was astounding – she had never seen him smile genuinely before, and the sight made her stomach contract. She desperately wanted to reach out, to touch him, and as she shifted herself slightly nearer, he looked up at her and nearly stumbled backwards – surprised at how close she was. "We should be in bed," he said, inwardly cringing at the inadvertent _double entendre_. To save face he walked straight past her, towards the exit, saying, "It's late."

Cursing herself for her boldness, and knowing that she was probably about to commit the biggest mistake of her lifetime, she called out once more to him. "Severus, wait a moment." She ran up to him, and, kissing him on the cheek, said, "Goodnight."

He stood there frozen for a moment watching her. His brain seemed to have stopped. Time was standing still, and there was only him and her. Without knowing how she got there she was suddenly in his arms, pressing her soft lips against his, gently probing his mouth with her tongue. In his head a small voice kept telling him that this was wrong, so very, very wrong, but for now it didn't matter. All that mattered was the young woman in his arms, and how much he desperately wanted her. All too soon, though, she broke away leaving him slightly breathless. "Goodnight," she repeated, then left for her own dormitory, leaving him standing alone with only the feeling of her still on his lips for company.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N - Sorry to everyone for keeping you waiting! It's my final year at uni, and I've really not had time to do anything at all; it's a wonder I've been able to find the time for this today, but there you go! Anyways, cheers to everybody for all the truly fabulous reviews I've been getting, they really do brighten up my day

* * *

She practically floated all the way back to Gryffindor Tower. _'I kissed him.'_ The words kept running through her head, over and over like a mantra. _'I kissed him. I kissed him.'_ Falling into a large armchair in front of the now dying embers of the fire, and staring into the glowing grate, she recalled every last little detail that she could remember. 

He wasn't the most responsive kisser – at first she had been terrified that she had made the world's greatest social _faux pas_ by bridging the gap between them. But, with a small amount of effort on her part, he finally began to kiss her back; slowly, tentatively - holding her in his arms as if she might break if he held too hard.

She also wondered if she should have left him standing alone as she had done. When she'd said 'goodnight' to him his eyes had followed her hungrily, as though he wanted more from her than she had given him. '_If you'd stayed, how far would it have gone?'_ she thought to herself, then realised that the answer was, '_only as far as you would take it.'_ He certainly wouldn't take advantage of her, but the image of her dream from only a week ago came back to her, and she found herself thinking that she would, if given the chance, take it all the way.

She almost laughed out loud when she thought about how Ron and Harry would react if they found out she had just snogged their evil potions master. Harry would think of it as some kind of betrayal, but Ron would probably take it far more personally. For many years there had been a build up between them, a relationship waiting to happen. When, finally, in their sixth year, they both bit the bullet and plunged into the bliss of coupledom, both realised that they were far too much like brother and sister. They had got as far as seeing each other naked, when both burst out laughing at the same time. At that moment they had decided that sex between them was not the way forward. Ron, although now happily in a relationship with Padma Patil, would more than likely go mad if he found that Snape had so much as laid a finger on her. And so she decided that for the time being it would be best if she kept tonight's little transgression to herself.

As the last of the embers died away, Hermione rose from her chair and made her way to bed, looking forward very much to seeing him again, and hoping beyond hope that she would have more _pleasant_ dreams tonight.

* * *

That night he hardly slept a wink. _'She kissed me. Gods, she kissed me.'_ All he could think about as he lay on top of his bed, watching the ceiling for the majority of the night was why, _why_ had she done that? Not that he was complaining, mind. Her kiss had been exquisite to say the least, even if it had taken him completely by surprise. He shifted slightly to lay on his side, looking wistfully at the empty space next to him in bed. If he closed his eyes he could just picture her, still feel her lips on his, the warmth of her body pressed up against him... '_Gods, it's been too long...'_ He could barely remember the last time he had been privileged enough to experience a woman's touch, and now, all of a sudden, here was this beautiful young woman coming on to him. 

He replayed every minute detail over and over in his head. Her eyes, golden brown and shining, closing slowly as she leant in towards him. Her lips, soft and full, pressed gently against his own. The smell of her skin; like vanilla and honey, the feel of her hair through his fingers, like spun silk. She was, in every concievable way, perfect.

So why on earth had she chosen him? The thought plagued him, wouldn't allow him to think of anything else. He was hardly famous for his striking good looks, his adonis like figure, or his sparkling conversational skills he mused with a great degree of irony. But she _had_ made the first move. And although he wasn't the most experienced in such matters, her kiss had felt both tender and genuine, as if there was some kind of real emotion behind it.

He had never really understood why she kept the company that she did. He recognized the deep dislike he inherently had for Potter, but also understood that even without the inherent dislike, he would not have been worthy company for a girl of such high intelligence. Apart from Weasley she didn't appear to have any other friends; he had certainly never seen her with anyone else. He thought back to her kiss, and the hidden emotion behind, and realised with a jolt what it was; loneliness. Although he would never care to admit it to anyone, he was an exceptionally lonely man himself. Perhaps she had seen that in him and recognised something of herself.

_'Maybe,' _he thought, _'we are more alike than either of us would care to admit.'_

The oddly comforting thought stayed with him until, finally, he drifted off to sleep. For the first time in many years Severus Snape fouind himself looking forward to the next day.


	15. Chapter 15

A/N – As if you couldn't have already guessed, this is where the naughtiness is going to begin happening. I'm trying not to make it very graphic because I don't want to get deleted. If anyone does think it's too graphic, please tell me and I'll be happy to re-write.

Anyhoos, as I was trying to say, this chapter contains consensual sex, so if you're not old enough to be reading that sorta thing, please look away now, cos if I get reported because of you, _yes, you,_ I will find you. Well, I probably wont, but I will be annoyed, and that's not a pretty sight

* * *

For the next month they went through the same routine. Classes during the day, dinner, bit of spare time to work on recreating Hermione's destroyed potion, detention, kiss goodnight, as much homework as they could fit in before bed.

At the end of the long month of detentions, there came a bit of a breakthrough. At long last, they had a sample of the potion that had turned Snape into a teenager.

"What now?" Hermione asked him. "The potion seems to be entirely stable. I still don't know what caused it to explode in the first place."

Severus shifted guiltily in his seat. "I seem to recall saying to you before that it wasn't your fault." He paused, looking as if he was deciding whether or not to say something, then muttered, "Mr Malfoy slipped a few extra ingredients in when you were looking elsewhere."

"What! And you've only just seen fit to tell me this! What did he put in? I can't believe you've kept this quiet all this time!" Her sudden outrage was to be expected, though Severus was a little surprised that it was directed entirely at him. "I thought I could trust you."

The last comment had hurt him, she could tell. His shoulders were hunched over, a slight frown appeared between his brow, and he was pretending, with only minor success, to be rereading some of Hermione's notes. He cleared his throat very slightly. "I suggest, Miss Granger, that we take a sample of the potion, add to it a small amount of mermaid blood and crushed dried leeches, the superfluous ingredients that Mr Malfoy added, recreating the explosion in a controlled environment. We can study the effects that the explosion has on any vertebrate, and also use it as a test subject when creating the antidote." He looked up at the clock, took a deep breath and sighed loudly. "It's late, Miss Granger. I suggest we continue this tomorrow." He began clearing his own notes from his desk, leaving Hermione staring at him open mouthed. She continued to watch him in this way, at an absolute loss as to what to say next for several minutes, before he caught her eye and said in an overly exasperated voice, "Was there something else you wanted, Miss Granger?"

"No..." she replied, her voice full of hesitation. "Well, actually, yes." She took hold of his arms, forcing him to look at her. His face turned darker, he looked as if he were likely to hit her at any second. "I'm sorry if I flew off the handle at you, but there's no need to behave like such a... such a..." She struggled to find the word she was looking for. "Such a spoiled little brat!" His breathing was becoming much faster, much more forced, his fists clenching. "I am trying my hardest to help you," tears were now appearing in her eyes, "and I thought that the last month... I'm obviously wrong. I thought that over the last month something special had happened between us. I've told you everything I could to help you, and all this time I thought it was all my fault, and you knew! _You knew!_ You knew it wasn't me that did this! So now that you've finally decided to tell me the truth, I have absolutely every right to be angry at you! And I _wish_ you wouldn't smoke those disgusting things!"

Severus had collapsed into his chair and had already rolled a cigarette, his hands shaking slightly as he drew deeply on it. "It helps me control my nerves," he said in a voice of forced calm. "I... I'm sorry I lied to you," he mumbled, barely audible. "I'll understand if you want to end the... friendship... that we have built up." He once again inhaled on the cigarette, then held his head in his hands waiting for her to leave him, as people always did eventually.

She didn't leave. Instead, she bent down, snatched the cigarette out of his hands and turned his face to look at her. "I'm not leaving," she said to him gently. Still cupping his face, she lowered her head to his and their lips met. What started out as a soft kiss soon became fiery and passionate, desperation taking hold of both of them. Both wanted to be as close to the other as it was possible to be. With one arm stretched out behind her, Hermione cleared the desk of all the papers, sending them flying across the room. With her other hand she grabbed hold of his robes and dragged him towards the now cleared desk.

Her intentions were obvious. But this wasn't how Severus had pictured it, and not how he wanted their first time to be. "Not here," he whispered to her, "Follow me." He lead her through a door in his office to his own chambers, a slight feeling of embarrassment creeping over him when she looked around at the spartan interior. He put a stop to her looking in the best way he could think of; taking her in his arms, their mouths locked together in an intricate dance.

He maneuvered her to the edge of the bed then whispered to her, "If this isn't what you want, tell me now." Uncertainty was finding it's way into his voice; if she said she didn't want him he thought his heart would break there and then. She responded by smiling at him, kissing him once more and starting to undo the buttons on his robes.

By the time she pulled his shirt from his trousers he had not yet made any attempt to undress her. Instead he lay there, watching her with an intensity that made her feel like a goddess. Slowly she began to unbutton her own blouse and delighted as his breath began to come out in short, ragged gasps. When finally she sat naked in front of him he swallowed as if to contain his own nervousness.

His arousal was very much evident, and she smiled in anticipation of seeing him fully. As if he read her mind he raised his hips slightly to help her remove the offending garments. She then lay back down on top of him, kissing him gently as if to reassure him that what they were doing was right, for he seemed very reluctant to actually touch her in any way. She took hold of his hand, and placed it on her own breast, encouraging him that he was allowed to touch her, that she wouldn't shudder, that she wouldn't run away from him. As his confidence with her grew, so did hers with him. She broke away from their kissing and began trailing small kisses up and down his body, pausing every now and then to listen to the incoherent groans that her lips were causing him to issue.

As time passed Hermione became vaguely aware of her dream coming true; she couldn't remember how they had got into that position, but suddenly Severus was positioned over her, looking straight into her eyes, uncertainly asking her permission once again, before it was too late. She responded silently with a smile, and slowly, so so slowly, he was moving inside her until they were joined.

He hadn't felt so alive in years. In the back of his mind he asked himself why he hadn't found someone sooner, why he hadn't simply gone down into the village and picked up someone, _anyone_, who could make him feel this way. Why had he waited over ten years for this? The answer was simple. No-one else _could_ have made him feel this way. She was so tight (and at this the scientific part of his brain deduced that she was until now, most likely, still a virgin,) and so responsive to him; at every slight stroke her eyes fell shut as she whispered his name.

He raised himself up on to his elbow in order to better watch her, whilst with his other hand reaching down between them, gently grazing her most sensitive place with his thumb. She cried out in response – the pressure within her building and building. "Kiss me, please," she managed to choke out between gasps.

"No," he breathed back. "I want to watch you."

His silky tones sent her straight over the edge – until now she couldn't believe that there was so much sexiness to be found just within a voice. She was aware of nothing more than the stars in her eyes, and the man on top of her. She pulled him back down towards her, kissing him fiercely and was delighted when she felt the muscles in his back begin to tense. He managed to growl out her name before collapsing on top of her, all his energy spent.

For a long time they lay together, neither one wishing to be the first to move, to break the intimate contact they had between them. Eventually Severus began to shiver, the layer of sweat on his back cooling him rapidly. He rolled off her to the side and pulled the blankets out from underneath them, covered them both up then lay back down on her, the top of his head nuzzling her neck. He was also the first to break the silence.

"Hermione?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you staying here tonight?" His fingers were tracing up and down the sides of her body, the gentle movement both comforting to her, whilst simultaneously beginning to arouse her again.

"I wouldn't move for all the tea in China."

"Good." He fell silent once again. A couple more minutes passed in silence, then, "Hermione?"

"Hmm?"

"Was... everything... ok?"

"Gods. It was amazing. Really amazing."

Her answer seemed to satisfy him. At once he relaxed, and it wasn't until then that she realised just how much tension he'd been carrying around with him. She wrapped him in her arms and held him until his breathing became much slower and steadier. She kissed the top of his head and whispered to him, "Good night Severus. I love you."


	16. Chapter 16

A/N - I'm gonna have to apologise in advance - this is gonna be my last update for a couple of months now :( I'm just about to start my final semester at university, so I feel it's best if I concentrate on my finals for now, but I promise I'll be updating again as soon as summer comes along! Alatariel xx

yummyguitars - I felt the same way too, so that's been addressed a bit more in this chapter. Hope you enjoy

To everyone else - Thankyou for all your kind words, it really motivates me to keep going.

* * *

He was the first to wake in the morning. One fact slowly penetrated his groggy mind; that the chill in the room was a very stark contrast to the warmth of the woman lying next to him. He snuggled closer to her and drew the covers further up to protect against the cold. He opened his eyes slightly and for a moment drank in the sight of her sleeping next to him. Suddenly the events of the previous night came back to him fully, his eyes wide in dawning comprehension. The shock that hit him as the memories flooded back caught him full pelt in the stomach. He rolled away from her so quickly, and without realising how close he was to the edge of the bed, that with a spectacular crash he suddenly found himself in a heap on the floor. 

Hermione woke instantly. She sat straight up in bed looking for the source of the disturbance. She was slightly amused at the sight of the usually very graceful Severus so unceremoniously deposited on the floor, but found herself refraining from making any comments; her boyfriend was overly sensitive to criticism at the best of times, and in such an embarrassing situation he would be even more so. She shook her suddenly at the thought. _Her boyfriend?_ Had she really thought that? _Boyfriend? Was_ he her boyfriend? She was unable to answer that properly. Yes, they spent a great deal of time in each other's company. Yes, they kissed at every available opportunity. Yes, they'd made love last night. Her breath caught momentarily. Last night. Last night she had told him she loved him, and he hadn't responded. She had meant it, but what if he didn't feel the same way? What if he regretted everything? Anyway, she realised, it didn't matter either way. When they discovered the antidote it would all have to end, lest he risk losing his job.

"Shit." His voice shook her out of her melancholy reverie. Over the edge of the bed she saw his hand reach up to grasp one of the blankets. It shot out of sight and a few seconds later Severus stood up with the blanket wrapped around his waist.

"You alright?" she asked him.

"Mmm," he nodded, not meeting her eyes.

"What happened?" She reached out to take his hand and began idly playing with his fingertips.

"Fell out of bed," he mumbled. He wasn't responding to her touch, and he hadn't yet made her gaze. "I'm going to have a shower." He made to move away from her, but she was much quicker. She grabbed his wrist firmly, preventing him from going.

"Severus?" He flinched slightly, as though the sound of his name had burned him. "Severus, what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Don't lie to me. What's wrong?"

He let out a deep breath and looked at the ceiling, his jaw clenched. She gave a sharp tug at his wrist, causing him to sit back down on the bed. His eyes looked slightly glazed, a layer of tears threatening to fall, but still he wouldn't look at her. They sat in silence for a few minutes, Hermione unwilling to relinquish her grip on his hand.

"Talk to me," she said, beginning to trace circles with her thumb on the back of his hand.

He was silent a few moments more, then spat out, "Can you even begin to comprehend how difficult this is for me?"

"I'd say probably about as difficult as it is for me. And you're not doing anything to make it easier for us. So talk."

"I should not have allowed last night to happen. I'm sorry. It was unforgivable." He snatched his hand away from her.

"You don't have to apologise because it was wonderful. It's not unforgivable because I initiated it anyway. I'm not leaving until you talk, Severus, so get used to it."

He put his head in his hands then at last for the first time since they woke, he met her gaze. "We need to end this."

"W-what? Why?"

He swallowed, a look of concentration on his face as if he were choosing his words very carefully. "Because I am a very selfish person. I have allowed you to get too close to me." He paused and took a deep breath. "If we continue this you will end up hurting me. I cannot allow that."

"I wont hurt you. What makes you think that I would?"

He closed his eyes and continued in a resigned voice, "Because that's what people do. I stopped allowing people near me when I learned that in some way or other they always let you down. It's far easier to understand why people dislike you if you give them a reason to dislike you, rather than letting them into your life only to find that they dislike you anyway." He smiled bitterly. "Soon you will realise you made a mistake in choosing me and you will end it. I'm selfish because I'm doing it now before you get the chance."

Tears were silently running down her face. She couldn't believe that after last night, how perfect everything had been, how _right_ it had felt, he was pushing her away from him. "D-didn't you hear what I said to you last night?"

He frowned and shook his head.

"I said 'I love you.' And what's more, I meant it." The bitter smile had returned to Severus' face, causing Hermione's words to become more heated. "Didn't you hear me? I said it because I meant it! Not because you'd just fucked me! Not because I'd got what I wanted, but because I wanted you to know how I felt!"

She wrapped herself up in a sheet and stood up, looking for her clothes. This time it was Severus who stopped her. "Wait? I heard you say it. I... I thought I was dreaming, or that I had simply imagined it." She looked down on him, still sat on the bed. He looked confused, lost, unsure of what he should say or do. "I've never heard those words actually said to me before. I've dreamed them, but... come back?"

She sat down just out of reach of him. "It's going to be very hard. When you're back to normal we wont be able to carry it on."

"I know. Not while you are a student here, at any rate."

She nodded thoughtfully, then said in an undertone, "It is better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all."

"Saint Augustine."

She shifted her position on the bed so she could just reach his hand. Their fingers interlocked with each other, and they stayed for several minutes simply looking at the connection between them. Severus lifted their hands up to meet his lips and gently placed a kiss on each of her fingers. She reciprocated the gesture immediately after and moved closer towards him. She took his other hand and drew him closer to her until she was able to reach up and touch his face. He let go of her hand and snaked his arms around her back, pulling her into him, then he lowered his lips to hers. There was none of the fiery desperation their kissing last night had contained – this was full of tenderness and compassion. Very gently, and never losing the contact between them, Severus pulled her down on to the bed, so she was lying on top of him. Only the two thin blankets that each had wrapped around themselves separated them from each other, and they were soon lost. Severus reached down and very softly stroked her centre, causing Hermione to moan, gasp and arch into him. She wished to return the favour and slowly ran her fingers up and down his length.

Suddenly he pulled her hand away from him, and choked out the words, "Not like this." She understood what he meant – he was close to the edge and wished to be joined with her.

She sat up on her knees, straddling him, then wordlessly she guided him in to her. He placed his hands on her hips and looked up into her eyes with a mixture of awe and unbridled passion. She was already dangerously close to the edge herself, and every time she moved wave after wave of the most intense pleasure came crashing down around her. A knot had formed deep inside, building and building until she could no longer contain it. As she climaxed she called out his name, and it was this action that sent Severus spiraling out of control as well.

Out of breath, she lay back down on top of him, gave him one kiss to the lips then collapsed on his chest. His arms lay draped over her, and neither seemed able to talk for sometime. Eventually Hermione broke the silence. "Don't feel insecure again ok? I _do_ love you."

"I know."

"And we should probably get moving. People will start to wonder where we are."

"It's Sunday. They wont be missing us."

"Severus, it's Sunday, we've already missed breakfast, and I've yet to take up my usual place in the library. Someone will notice that something's amiss."

He sighed deeply. "I don't want to move."

"Me neither, but we have to. We can't let this get out, you'd lose your job, and I can't be responsible for that."

He sighed once more. "You're right. You're always bloody right. Get dressed, I'll make sure no-one's about."

She quickly put her clothes back on while Severus slipped into a dressing gown. He opened his door a fraction to check the coast was clear. "You're ok," he called to her, opening the door fully to let her out. As she passed him she gave him one last kiss. "Will I see you later?"

"Maybe. If I can sneak out."

He nodded in understanding. "You had better move. Before you get seen."

She flashed him a smile before running out into the corridor and all the way back to Gryffindor tower. She was hoping to sneak in unnoticed but Harry and Ron were already in the common room, playing exploding snap.

"Where were you this morning, 'Mione?" asked Ron.

"Yeah, why didn't you come to breakfast?" Harry added.

"Erm, I spent the night in the hospital wing."

Both Harry and Ron suddenly looked worried. "What's wrong?" asked Ron.

"Oh, er... nothing. I just... wasn't feeling myself." She smiled as she thought of the man she had been feeling, and practically skipped up to her dormitory in order to freshen up, leaving Harry and Ron looking bewildered.


	17. Chapter 17

A/N - hey everyone, thanks for being so patient. Sorry it's not very long, but you know me, can't really write long chapters. But I promise it wont be such a long wait til i update this time.

I should warn you, this chapter contains mucho angst and fluff in pretty equal measures. Enjoy!

* * *

He watched her until she disappeared around a corner at the end of the corridor. His mind was still buzzing with the words she had said to him – so much so that he had to pinch himself to ensure he wasn't dreaming.

The sudden sharp pain proved it to himself; he was definitely awake, and although she had made him promise not to doubt her again, his natural fears and insecurities soon began to nag at him. After all, although he was trapped in a younger body, he was still technically twenty years her senior, and he was also still the narky bastard he had always been.

He had never had much luck with women in general, and with relationships in particular. In his younger days at school he'd always been overlooked by the girls in favour of the better looking and more popular boys. There had been one girl – the only girl he'd ever kissed at school – a popular Ravenclaw whom he'd secretly fancied for over a year. Somehow she'd found out about his affections and seemed, at first, to reciprocate them. She had come up to him privately after breakfast one morning and asked him to go with her on the next Hogsmeade visit. He was immediately suspicious of her and at first refused, but every day she asked him again until he agreed. Their date had been going perfectly. It was a pleasant spring morning; sunny but with a gentle breeze and a soft light that seemed to turn the already beautiful landscape into a veritable Constable oil painting. He had done everything he thought he needed to on a date; he bought her flowers, paid for everything, complemented her at every available opportunity. At the end of the day, as they were walking back to school she had stopped suddenly. He was about to ask her what was wrong when she had tentatively kissed him. For a moment he was shocked, then instantly came to his senses and returned the kiss, deeper this time. He became suddenly aware of a jeering sound, of cruel laughter and shouting. She broke away from him and without a backward glance ran back to where he saw a group of girls coming out from various hiding places behind trees and bushes. He could hear their cries of, "I can't believe you actually did it," "That was so gross," and her reply of, "Pay up girls! Five galleons each! It was worth it for this!" He realised with a sickening intensity that the whole day had been nothing more than a joke to her, something she'd done purely as a bet. He'd been utterly heartbroken. He had found it exceptionally hard to trust people before the incident, but afterwards it became practically impossible. He had not been in any kind of relationship since, and his few, brief sexual encounters had mostly been paid for, until self loathing and disgust had forced him into celibacy. He had vowed never to let anyone come close to him. But now...

A terrible thought struck him. What if this was a case of history repeating? Nothing more than a sick joke to amuse Potter and his little gang of friends? He automatically turned to his tobacco, desperate for something to quell his rising nerves.

A rush of nicotine sped through his veins, bringing a clarity to to his thoughts. He tried to engage the most logical, analytical and detached part of his brain into action by asking himself questions

"_Is this a joke? Possibly, but there really is only one way to find out, and that is to go with it for now... Is she really the type to pull such a prank? Who knows? Again, there is only one way to find out... What will you do if she turns out to be lying? The same thing I always do; block it out, build a wall, forget it... She's friends with Potter – he's not above doing something as despicable as destroying a man's life. Like father, like son, remember? She's nothing like either of them. She's proved time and again that although she's friends with the boy, (and Merlin only knows why,) she is a very different person. Trust her... Is this what you want? Yes... Are you sure? Yes, this is what I want. Someone to just... be there. To not have to wake up to the same tedium and monotony day after day. Someone to provide comfort and support. Someone who actively seeks out my company and doesn't just 'put up' with me... And when it all ends? There are no reasons why it should have to... What about when you find a cure? It will have to end then, not even Dumbledore is so liberal minded as to accept an affair between a teacher and his student. Yes, it will have to end then, but only temporarily. It wont be long until she graduates, and then nothing can come between us... And what about the Dark Lord? If he were to find out one of his precious Death Eaters was involved with a muggleborn he wouldn't take kindly to it. I'll look after her. I don't care what he does to me, but she wont get hurt... You are an old man compared to her. What makes you think that when you've found a cure, and everything is back to normal, and you manage to hide her from the Dark Lord, she'll want to be with a man twice her age? I don't know. I can't answer that. But it's like she said – 'It's better to have loved and lost that to have never loved at all.' But right now, I don't want to be alone anymore."_

Satisfied with his own reasoning he began to straighten out the crumpled bedsheets. He needed this love now. He'd survived all these years alone, certainly, but if he'd been given such a choice in the past, then with hindsight he'd have taken companionship. He'd be a fool to turn away from it now.

As he was making the bed he noticed a curly, golden brown hair on a pillow. He picked it up and for a while played with it, twisting it around his fingers. Smiling to himself he thought, _'Fuck it, you're right. Just go with it.'_ Pocketing the hair into his dressing gown, he realised that for the first time in his life he found himself not caring much for consequences, content to bury himself in the present. And that feeling was exhilarating. He sighed contentedly, happy for now to just... be.


	18. Chapter 18

Work on the potion had come to a virtual standstill in the wake of Severus' revelation over the cause of the explosion, and the unexpected intimacy it had led to. For three weeks time which previously had been spent on exploring theories for a possible antidote was now spent on an exploration of one another's bodies.

However, after three weeks both felt it was time to commence work once more. And it soon became clear that whilst together in their private lives they could be extremely tender and passionate, they were soon, professionally speaking, at loggerheads.

"There has to be another way," Hermione protested.

"There isn't," Severus stated back.

"There _has_ to be. This is far too dangerous."

"Then what would you suggest? I'm telling you, it is the only option."

"It simply isn't controlled enough. Anything could happen!"

Severus had once again suggested the idea of recreating the explosion. Hermione had argued against the idea, feeling that it simply wasn't safe.

Severus picked up a quill that had been lying unused on the table and began to idly play with it. Hermione had soon noticed this inability to keep his hands still and smiled in spite of himself.

"What's so amusing?" he asked her.

"Oh, nothing."

"Are you feeling your resolve beginning to lessen?"

"No, are you?"

"No." He took a deep breath and slowly let it out, another habit Hermione had picked up on. "I need to observe the effects of the explosion, from a purely objective viewpoint. The only way fro me to do that is to recreate it. End of story."

"You know the effects! It made you young again!"

"I know the end result. It's not the same."

"OK, so what can we use then? A mouse? A lizard? I hate to break it to you, Severus, but you are neither a rodent nor a reptile! Even if, _if_, we could control the explosion, there's no reason why it would have the same effect on an animal as it would on a human. It's a waste of time, and a dangerous one too."

Severus lent forward in his chair and began to massage his temples. "Fine. We'll just have to use a person then."

"Oh, Severus, don't be so bloody facetious."

"I'm serious. How would you feel about using Longbottom? I'm sure it would be the most valuable contribution towards the science of Potions that the boy had ever managed."

"Severus..."

"Fine. Potter then."

"Severus, please..."

A silence fell between them, but a comfortable one. Severus was soon smoking, the one habit of his Hermione detested.

"I hate those things," she said, more to herself than to him.

"I don't."

"Why do you have to be so bloody stubborn?"

"Why do you?"

She wanted to scream with frustration. "Gods, you make it so hard sometimes."

He raised an eyebrow, smirking at her unintentional _double entendre_. Taking one final drag on his cigarette he said, "Well, I aim to please."

He was playing a game with her and she knew it. He was trying to wear her out so she would agree to his experiment. The fact was, deep down she knew he was right. But as their earlier banter had shown, she was incredibly stubborn. She looked over at her lover and caught his gaze. She could easily get lost in those dark eyes of his. So much mystery in them. She wanted to find out everything she could about about him, to know all there was to know. She never would have believed at the start of the year that it was possible to fall so in love with anyone, let alone with her Potions Master. She desperately wanted their time together to last forever, and that realisation struck her hard. She was jeopardising finding a cure for the man she loved for the most selfish reasons imaginable. Tearing her gaze from his, she said simply, "You win."

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that."

"I said, 'you win,' you bastard, and don't make me repeat it. We'll try and recreate the explosion, but I want to make sure we set up certain precautions. A few shield charms should give us enough protection for a smaller scale explosion. Come on, let's get it over with."

"Now? Two minutes ago you were adamant for such an experiment to never take place, and now you want to do it now?"

"Yes, before I change my mind again. No time like the present, right?"

"I'm afraid, Hermione, that once again you are incorrect. I suggest we wait until the Christmas holidays. Less chance of us being interrupted."

"We've never been interrupted in here."

He seemed momentarily lost for words. "Yes, but..."

"The holidays will be fine," she cut in, suddenly understanding that he felt the same; both wanted to spend as much time as possible with the other, and this was the first step towards separating them. He wanted to put it off as much as she did. "But I want to make it clear that, while I'm agreeing to do this experiment, I don't necessarily agree with either the ethics, or the practicalities."

"Your objections are duly noted," he said, then added with a smile, "And duly ignored."

She had stood up, and was about to retort when he grabbed her around the wrist, pulling her towards him. She fell into his lap and his lips pressed against hers.

"I'm sorry I'm an arsehole," he said, nuzzling his face into her neck.

"Oh, it's more than that," she replied, planting little kisses on the top of his head. "If you were just an arsehole I could cope. It's the fact that you're such a _persuasive_ arsehole that's driving me to despair."

She brushed a stray strand of his hair out of his eyes. It wasn't greasy, as she always used to assume, but remarkable soft. She supposed that not spending all day every day among the thick fumes of a Potions class was working wonders in keeping his hair grease-free. She bent over him once more to kiss the top of his head and inhaled his scent. He smelt delicious, of nutmeg and cinnamon. He smelt like Christmas. She allowed herself a small little laugh, then asked him, "So, what are you getting me for Christmas?"

"I'm sorry?" he said, slightly bemused.

"I've let you win today, I expect something good as a reward. I just want to check what you're getting me."

"I was unaware that you could easily be bought off by some kind of gift. That's something I shall have to remember for the future."

She pushed against his chest in mock anger. "I can't be 'easily bought.'" She began to squirm slightly in his lap. The resultant groans that issued from him, coupled with the insistent hardness soon pressing into her, told her that she had gained the upper hand over him. "So don't make out that I can be." She stopped her squirming, causing him to moan again.

"Hermione," he growled into her neck, "I want you. Right now."

She was very much enjoying being in control in their little game, and was unwilling to give up her advantage. "Later, perhaps," she said to him and despite his protests she continued, "Seriously, later. I'm going to have to go; I promised Ron and Harry I'd help them organise their revision timetables today."

In response he held onto her even tighter and continued his ineffectual protests.

"Honestly, Severus, I have to go. Firstly they'll get suspicious if I keep putting them off, secondly, do you know how much earache I'll get if they fail because I didn't help them with this?"

"It'd fucking well serve them right if they did. Bone idle, lazy little bastards."

"Yes, well. It'd still be me who has to hear about it. And I don't think I could cope with that. Later, I promise."

"You'd better stick to that."

"I will. Love you."

As she kissed him goodbye she marveled once again at how deeply her affections for him had gone. She also felt a slight, growing sense of dread at what would happen if her two best friends were ever to find out. And something this big couldn't be kept a secret forever...


	19. Chapter 19

** BANG!   
**

"Pretty spectacular, eh, 'Mione?"

"Simply fascinating Ron. What are the practical applications?"

"Um, well..."

Far from getting stuck in with NEWT revision timetables, Ron was intent on showing Hermione an idea he'd had for his brothers' joke shop. He'd created a small, bouncing rubber ball, which when thrown to the floor omitted a sound akin to canon fire as well as a thick, swirling cloud of dense purple fog.

"It makes fro a good distraction," interjected Harry.

"I don't know about distraction, but it's certainly distracting. Really, Ron, you've a good brain on your shoulders. I'm sure if you used it properly you could really make some something of yourself. Why you'd want to waste it coming up with this kind of rubbish is beyond me."

"Remind me again why we like her, Harry." Ron's words were playful, but he looked crestfallen. He began rolling his creation between his palms.

Instantly a feeling of guilt settled around her shoulders. Much as he loved his brothers, he was still supremely jealous of all the money they had made, and wanted to go into business with them more than anything. Her remarks had hurt him.

"Oh, Ron, I didn't mean..."

"Forget it, Hermione."

"You'll be a success, whatever you do. You know I believe that. But I think you need to do it on your own, and not just try to copy Fred and George."

"I said forget it."

With another enormous bang, Ron threw the ball into the corner of the Gryffindor common room A nearby group of first years looked startled and soon began coughing and spluttering in the thick haze.

"Ron..."

Ron shot her a warning glance to silence her, then threw his books in his bag and stormed off to the dormitory.

Hermione turned to Harry for support. "Harry, you know I didn't mean... I just... I just want him to make something of himself."

Harry couldn't, at first, quite meet her eye, but under her gaze he soon crumpled. He sighed, leaned back in his armchair, and pushed his hands through his unruly hair. "Oh, Hermione, we're worried about you. You're changing. You're becoming short tempered, and you're so judgmental." Hermione opened her mouth in protest, but Harry ploughed on. "You may not have noticed it, but we have. It's him, Hermione, I know it. That foul, greasy bastard. He's rubbing off on you. And I know it can't be pleasant, far from it, but you're taking it out on us. We never see you, and when we do you're either distant or moody. If he's upsetting you we want you to talk to us. I'm not afraid of him, Hermione, I'd take any excuse to give him what's coming to him." He paused a moment, his fists clenched, and Hermione was reminded just how much Harry hated Snape. When he continued the anger had left his voice, and was replaced once again with concern. "Are you close to finding this cure? Because we just want you back, Hermione." He laid a tentative hand on her arm, but Hermione didn't notice. Harry's words had struck her hard. She'd been so caught up with Severus that she'd forgotten all about her best friends. Harry continued, "Still, it's Christmas soon. At least you'll get a break from Slimeball at The Burrow. God only knows we could all do with a break."

Harry slowly withdrew his hand from her arm. Her mind was reeling. Only a couple of hours ago she'd been laughing and joking with Severus about Christmas presents. They had been planning to work on the potion over the Christmas break. But now, after this, there was no way she could justify spending Christmas at Hogwarts, which meant having to disappoint Severus. Never had she felt so torn. She loved her friends dearly and didn't want the two boys who had always been there for her to be alienated, but Severus seemed overly sensitive to even the slightest let down, and she didn't want to hurt the man she loved.

Tears welled up in her eyes. Why? Why did the people she loved hate each other so much? It all seemed so unjust. She wanted to scream in frustration, and having to keep it all bottled up inside was making it even worse. She had to make a decision, and she had to make it now else she lose her mind. She looked over at Harry, at the deep concern that was etched into every line of his face, and the kindness in his large green eyes, at the worry in his clenched hands. "I'm sorry, Harry," she choked out. "I'm sorry I've not been with you guys lately. I promise I'll be around more soon. I'm looking forward to Christmas, really I am. You're right. It'll be good to get away from this place for a while, good to have a break. I'm sorry."

She leapt up and threw her arms around Harry's neck, knowing that she had just saved her friendship for the time being. She just wished there was a way to quiet the animosity felt between Harry and Severus, although that was an insurmountable task. Harry had nearly seven years of hate on his side, whilst Severus had almost an entire lifetime of bitterness towards the Potters on his side. If only there could be a way of getting them both to see what she could see in each of them, or at least getting them to _understand_ one another.

It was going to be extremely difficult to get Severus to see past that bitterness at all, and she was quite certain that her altered Christmas plans would give him more fuel to add to the raging fire that burned within him. She was absolutely dreading telling him what she would be doing now. Her only option was to choose her moment extremely carefully, and promise to make it up to him at a later date. She just hoped that there would be making up to do after the inevitable fall out.

She let go of Harry, and wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her sleeve. If Ron or Harry did find out about her and Severus they would feel it be the ultimate betrayal, yet she didn't want to lie to them, and keep the relationship secret. She wanted them to know the truth, but knew that was impossible because if anyone knew the truth Severus' position at the school was in jeopardy. But it was better that she tell them the truth at some point on her own terms, rather than them finding out of their own volition. They would probably try to persuade her to end the relationship, or threaten to go public about Severus 'taking advantage of a student,' and neither of those were viable options at all. Now that she had found love, she couldn't simply give it up again straight away.

"Harry, I... I just need a couple of minutes alone. Do you mind if I go to my rooms?"

"Of course, 'Mione. I'm just glad to have you back with us. Remember, if you need anything, _anything_ at all, we're right here." He flashed her a coy smile, and she could feel his eyes on her all the way up to the dormitory.

Up in the dormitory, away from everyone else, Hermione threw herself onto the bed and cried herself into a troubled sleep, not wanting to lose the best friends she'd ever had, but unwilling to forsake the new love she had gained. There had to be naother way, there simply had to be...


	20. Chapter 20

A/N – Hey everyone! I'm not going in to any details here, in case anyone hasn't read it, but I just want to make it clear that following the events of HBP, this is now very AU. Well, even more than it was before I also just want to say that this chapter goes out to everyone who has asked for longer chapters! I'll try and keep it up like this for you guys, cos I found this chapter really easy to write.

By the way, the line "unexpected situations are matched by unexpected virtues in people" comes from the wonderful play "Our Country's Good," by the equally wonderful Timberlake Wertenbaker. It just really sounded like something Dumbledore would say, and so, in this, he does!

Anyways, hope you enjoy, and don't forget to review! Thanks everyone!

* * *

December weather at Hogwarts was as easy to predict as the sum rising each morning. Without fail every new day would see a fresh layer of crisp white snow. The only question anyone concerned themselves with regarding the weather in the Christmas month was just how _much_ snow would fall.

Severus had left the relative warmth and comfort of the dungeons only a few minutes after Hermione, and after collecting a warm travelling cloak, gloves and some gold, he strode purposefully out of Hogwarts castle and into the falling snow, heading straight towards Hogsmeade.

At first the snow was falling in large, individual flakes, slowly drifting towards the ground like downy feathers. The buildings in the village itself all looked like iced gingerbread, an effect heightened by the smell of baking emanating from many of the dwellings. The young children of the village – those too young for entry to Hogwarts – were taking the opportunity to play in the snow; some were making snowmen, others gleefully fighting battles with snowballs, and one particularly ambitious and industrious child was even attempting to build an igloo.

As Severus picked his way amongst the cobbled streets the snow began falling slightly more heavily. He silently cursed himself for being so foolish. His intent had been to find the perfect gift for Hermione, but despite how good his intentions were, he now realised he had no idea as to where to start. He had virtually no experience at buying things for other people. He didn't even know what kind of things she liked, other than books.

A book, then, maybe? No, too predictable. He wanted something special, something that required a little more thought. And besides, knowing Hermione, she would already have purchased just about every book currently on the market anyway. He walked past Lafayette's, a witches' clothes store. His eye was unwittingly drawn to the window display; a sign pronouncing, "Tempt your Wizard this Christmas," had been placed next to a mannequin wearing very little, except for a white lace bra, with matching underwear, stockings and suspenders. His mouth had suddenly become very dry. Tempting indeed... No, somehow too intimate, too personal. And far too tacky. Much as he would love to see her dressed like that, (and he made a mental note to ensure he would at some point in the future,) he wanted to get something for her, not for him. His musings took him past Buckmaster and Sheen, the jewellers. The items on display were all far too expensive for him. A teacher's wage wasn't exactly high, but he felt quite certain that if he was going to find her something special, this was the place to find it.

* * *

Half an hour, and some very professional bartering later, he left the shop and was back outside in the snow. It was no longer falling in thick white flakes; the wind had picked up and the blizzard whipped the tiny ice particles into the faces of those unfortunate enough to still be outside. Yet despite how violent the weather had turned, Severus felt a sense of calm, inner satisfaction. He could feel the slight weight of what he had bought, the shape of the box in his inner pocket pressing gently against his chest. He pushed his soaking wet hair out of his eyes, and, fighting against the direction of the blizzard, slowly began to make his way back to Hogwarts.

It took much longer than usual to get back to the castle, and it was with an immense amount of relief that he stepped into the entrance hall. For a moment he looked wistfully in the direction of Gryffindor Tower where she would be, then set off towards the dungeons to get out of his wet clothes.

He turned down a corridor and was walking past one of the empty classrooms when he felt a pair of hands grab him from behind.

He was hauled into the classroom, spun around and forced into the wall. It was only then that he found himself face to face with his assailant; Harry Potter.

"Just what the fuck do you think you're doing, Potter?"

"You shut up, Snape, and listen to me."

"Piss off." He pushed Harry squarely on the chest. Like a flash Harry had his wand out, but Severus was even faster. "Expelliarmus!" Harry's wand flew through the air, but in the split second Severus took his eyes off him to catch the wand, Harry, with a strength neither of them knew he possessed, caught Severus on the nose with a deft right hook.

Both the wands fell from his grip and clattered to the floor. The pain shooting through his head was intense enough to cause his eyes to start streaming. He put his hand to his face to wipe away the blood and tears, but could just see Harry lunging towards the fallen wands. Without thinking he kicked the wands across the floor, grabbed Harry by the front of his robes, and head butted him in the face.

"Ow!" screeched both men simultaneously, as they both fell to the floor. Severus was leaning against the wall, Harry against a table leg, and both were nursing nose bleeds.

Wiping his nose on the back of his sleeve, Harry muttered, "Stupid bloody bastard."

Severus, likewise, wiped the blood away, and tentatively felt the bones in his nose. Broken Again. "Fucking prick," he spat out.

"Fuck you, Snape, this is your fault."

"My fault? My fault? Oh, of course. Saint Potter is, by the grace of nature, blameless in everything. Forgive me if my short term memory isn't quite up to scratch, but, at the risk of sounding childish, I do believe you started it."

"Me? If you hadn't upset Hermione..."

"What?" interrupted Severus.

"...But of course you have no understanding of human feelings, so..."

"What do you mean, if I hadn't upset her?"

"... I wouldn't expect you to know what you've done..."

"I haven't _done_ anything!"

"...Because all you _can _do is hurt people."

Silence fell between them, a charged silence full of loathing for one another. Severus was also reeling from what Harry had said. He couldn't believe the woman he loved was upset because of him, it just made no sense. He looked back over to Potter who was struggling to get back on his feet. He needed answers, and he needed them now, and Potter was going to give them whether he liked it or not. He kicked out, catching Harry's shins, and with another cry of pain, Harry once again found himself on the floor.

"You'll pay for that, Snape."

"Stop being so fucking self righteous. What's wrong with Herm... Miss Grainger?"

"Nothing that not spending time with you couldn't cure."

"What's wrong with her?"

For a second Harry looked him straight in the eyes, then without warning kicked Severus in the stomach. Severus rolled over on to his knees, hugging himself. He was completely winded but still managed to choke out, "What the fuck was that for?"

"I think that makes us even."

"Bet you enjoyed that, didn't you, Potter?"

"Hell, yeah."

Again, silence descended upon them, a silence broken only by Severus' ragged gasps as he desperately tried to get his breathing under control. Needing the support of something solid, he once more leaned against the wall.

"I've wanted to do that for years," said Harry.

"Tell me about it." His breathing returned to normal, Severus felt he needed a cigarette. He rolled himself one within seconds and looked over to Harry who was watching him intently. He gingerly offered Harry the pouch, who instantly replied with, "I don't smoke," the disgust in his voice most evident.

"Suit yourself. So, are you going to tell me what the fuck that little display was all about?"

"You may not understand the concept of this, Snape, so let me just explain. Hermione is my friend. I care for her, and when I see her hurting, it hurts me."

"What do you mean?"

"I knew you wouldn't understand. Its pointless even trying to explain. But you do know that people, other people, not yourself, obviously, form these things called friendships? And friends look out for each other. I came here to tell you that if you ever, _ever_, hurt her again, you're a dead man. I mean it."

Severus snorted. "Don't be so fucking melodramatic. And I have done nothing to hurt or upset Miss Grainger, so for fuck's sake, get your facts in order before you make such fruitless allegations." He lowered his voice dangerously. "And let me warn you, Potter. If you ever threaten me again..."

"Oh give it a rest, you pathetic old man. You don't frighten me. Talk about being melodramatic. And if you haven't done anything to upset her, then why is she upstairs, right now, crying her eyes out?"

Severus didn't reply, but forced himself to swallow the bile that had just risen in his throat. He couldn't think of what he had done wrong, but having had such little experience in human interactions he couldn't be certain that he was blameless.

Harry continued, "And of course she's change. Since she's been forced to spend her days with you. So, I want you to find this cure, and then stay the fuck away from her." He shook his head despairingly. "You just don't know what it means to care for someone."

Between gritted teeth Severus growled, "Don't make that mistake, Potter. Don't make the mistake of thinking you're the only one who cares. Don't make the mistake of thinking I don't care. People have died because of that mistake."

"Oh yeah? Who?"

Severus smiled; a tight lipped smile utterly devoid of any warmth or humour. "Your parents. Well, your mother, at least. Your father I couldn't give a shit about."

Harry was on him in an instant, his hands wrapped around Severus' throat. "Say that again, shithead."

Severus laughed, and once again it was humourless and completely cold. "I said I couldn't give a shit about your father."

The fingers around his throat tightened their grip, forcing Severus to lash out in an attempt to rid himself of his attacker. He struck Harry a blow to the side of the head. Harry's glasses, which remarkably had manged to stay intact, flew across the room, and Harry instantly relinquished his grip.

As soon as the constriction had gone Severus slumped back against the wall, gasping for breath, his eyes closed. He opened them jut in time to see a booted foot heading straight for his face. He just managed to roll to the side to avoid it, and was about to leap to his feet when a voice shouted, "Impedimentia!" and Severus found he could no longer operate his legs. Potter had retrieved his wand as well as his glasses, and was pointing it straight at him.

"Bastard! I'll get you for that, Potter, I'll fucking get you..."

"Shut the fuck up, Snape! What are you talking about? Tell me about my parents!"

"Well, your father was the most arrogant cock I've ever had the displeasure to meet..."

With the impediment jinx still working on him, this time Severus couldn't move out of the way fast enough, and his comment earned him the boot to the face that he had previously avoided.

"You can keep winding me up as much as you want, Snape, I don't mind. But you're not leaving until you tell me what you mean."

Blood was trickling down the back of Severus' throat. Coughing and spluttering, he spat out as much as he could then looked up to face Harry. Every line of his face was etched with determination.

"Fine."

"And this had better be the truth, Snape. If for a second I don't believe you, you know what'll happen."

"Fine, but I doubt you'll like what I've got to say."

"I don't like anything you've got to say. But I need to hear this."

"Suit yourself. But I swear, if you attack me again, I'm not talking, so back off." Harry took several steps backwards, and once Severus was satisfied, he continued. "You know full well how much your father and I despised each other. Well..." Severus paused; these memories were still painful, but he wanted Potter to finally know the truth. "Let us just say that animosity wasn't just felt between your father's little gang and myself. There were very few people, in fact next to no-one, that I could turn to at school. One person who I could, more or less, count on was your mother. She was... she was a good woman."

"Yeah, right. If you really thought that she was good, why'd you call her 'mudblood,' huh? Why's you join the Death eaters if you knew that muggleborns weren't bad? You're full of bullshit, Snape."

"Sometimes, Potter, there's no other choice."

"There's always a choice."

"I'm not going to go into details now, Potter, because it really doesn't concern you, but you're wrong. I had no choice. At least, I felt I had no choice. It was only when I was in to deep that I realised there was another way. Dumbledore offered me a second chance, a chance to redeem my actions."

"Yeah, yeah, I know all this. So what's it got to do with my parents?"

"I found out that the Dark Lord was after you and your parents, and came to Dumbledore. As I said, for all I cared your father could burn in Hell, but your mother, after all the times she stuck up for me at school when no-one else would, I felt hers was a life worth saving. I cared enough to put my own life on the line to save hers. But, no-one believed me and as a result, she's now dead."

"Liar!" screamed Harry. "You had nothing to do with it! They knew he was after us and set up their own protection!"

"Which really worked, didn't it? If they'd have listened to me, they might still be alive. But, they didn't think I cared enough, and my suggestion was dismissed without them even thinking about it."

"What suggestion?"

Once again Severus paused, the painful memories threatening to overcome him. "When I was a child, my father was... he could be... brutal, shall we say. To both myself and to my mother. So my mother set up a sort of 'safe house.' In the Pyrenees mountains. And when it all became... too much... she would apparate us there. She placed a Fidelius charm over it, and she was the secret keeper. We were the only two people in the world who knew about it. And when she died, I became the secret keeper. I offered them my sanctuary, the one place in the world which was truly mine, and no-one believed my offer was genuine. Black didn't trust me; he said it was a trap, and that I'd be leading them straight into the hands of the Dark Lord. He said I wasn't capable of caring for anyone but myself, and that if anyone was going to be their secret keeper it would be him. He shouted at me to get out, and that was the last time I saw Lily alive. So don't ever make the mistake of believing I don't know how to care for people, Potter."

Harry had sunk down to the floor, tears silently streaming down his cheeks. Where only moments before was stood a man, now there sat a lost child.

"Potter... Harry... for what its worth, I'm sorry. Your mother should have lived."

Harry's breathing became ragged as even more tears fell. "I wish... I just wish I'd known them."

Severus was slightly embarrassed by such an outward display of emotion. Not knowing what to say, and being uncomfortable watching him, he turned his gaze away until Harry had stopped crying. When he turned back Harry was no longer sat on the floor but was stood over him. He flinched slightly as Harry stretched out his arm to him, and it took a few moments for Severus to realise that Harry wasn't about to hit him; he was offering to help him up. He cautiously took hold of Harry's outstretched hand, and as aided to his feet.

"For what it's worth, Snape... Professor... thank you for trying." they stood in awkward silence for a few moments before Harry said, "I think, perhaps, we should both go and see Madam Pomfrey."

Just as they were about to leave, Harry noticed an item on the floor that had not been there previously. A small box was lying there, unobtrusively, where Snape had been only moments before. He bent down to pick it up. "What's this?" he asked curiously.

Severus was unsure of what he meant until he noticed the small jewelery box in Harry's hands. "Nothing," he said, "Give it back."

Curiosity got the better of him, and Harry opened the box. He raised a questioning eyebrow towards Severus who snatched it back off of him. "I don't think that's going to suit you, Professor."

"Shut up. Its... a token of... appreciation... for Miss Grainger's... efforts."

Harry merely nodded, but to Severus' great relief didn't press the point any further.

It was one of the most surreal moments of Severus' life; two men aiding each other to the Hospital Wing, who were only going there because of the other one anyway, and who were at each other's throats only minutes before. But, in the last couple of minutes of their confrontation a delicate understanding seemed to have sprung up between them; harry needed more than anything to hear Severus' apology, and it meant so much to Severus to hear someone genuinely thanking him for his efforts.

Pomfrey's reaction to the sight of them stumbling into the Hospital Wing bloody and bruised had been more than predictable. Her look of horror and worry soon gave way to anger, and she began to lecture them on how morally wrong fighting was, and certainly not a way to solve conflict. And that anger soon dissipated into motherly instinct as she insisted they both stay for a couple of hours for observation.

Gossip always seemed to spread quicker through Hogwarts than it could anywhere else, and within the hour Harry's bed was surrounded by well wishers.

"Harry," said Ron, much louder than was strictly necessary, "If you need a hand sorting out the scum that did this to you, I'd be more than happy to help." He shot an evil glance towards Snape.

"Ron, don't," said Harry warningly. "I'll talk to you about this later."

Hermione was amongst Harry's well wishers, and so far had not so much as looked over to Severus once. His one visitor, Dumbledore, was chatting inanely to him about a range of useless subjects varying from a particularly amusing comic strip he had read in a muggle newspaper about a cat who like lasagne, to his hopes of receiving a new pair of socks for Christmas this year. Severus just wished that, for once, the old man would shut up and leave him alone, so he could talk to Hermione for a moment.

With almost psychic timing Madam Pomfrey reappeared and insisted all of Harry's visitors leave so she could see to her patients.

"I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave too, Albus. These two young men need my full attention."

"Of course, Poppy, but i wonder if you would permit me just a few more moments? Miss Grainger?" he called after Hermione, "This involves you too. Would you please wait a while?"

Hermione shuffled over to Severus' bedside whilst Madam Pomfrey hovered over Harry. She seemed to be carefully avoiding making eye contact with him.

"I was simply wondering how you two were getting on."

"Um..." began Severus, whilst Hermione managed a slightly more articulate, "I'm sorry?"

"I mean with finding an antidote. I must admit, I rather miss out Potions Master. We would all appreciate it if you could come back to work soon, Severus. How close do you think you are to finding it?"

"We're getting there," replied Snape.

"Good, good. And, er... how are you two getting on?"

Hermione nearly choked, and was visibly going red. Severus, who was infinitely better at hiding his emotions, said, "Fine."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, and with a slight smile playing about his lips said, "Good, I'm glad to hear it."

Madam Pomfrey chose that moment to announce that Harry, whose injuries had only been very minor anyway, was fit enough to leave. Hermione instantly walked away with Harry, leaving Severus alone with Dumbledore. However, at the door Harry paused.

"Professor Snape? This may sound weird, but... What are you doing for Christmas?"

Hermione was gawping at Harry, looking for all the world as if she might faint, Severus looked incredulous, while Dumbledore merely smiled politely.

"Er... nothing," he eventually replied.

"Well, we're all going to be at The Burrow, and if, y'know, you don't want to be alone, I'm sure it'd be OK if you come along. I'll have to check with Ron, but... anyway, the offer's there..." With that Harry left, a completely bewildered Hermione following in his wake.

Dumbledore's serene voice shook Severus out of his reverie. "Strange isn't it," he said, "how so often unexpected situations are matched by unexpected virtues in people." He paused just long enough to allow the possibilities of what he said to sink in. "And now, Severus, it is probably best that I leave you in Poppy's expert care. I, for one, have no wish to invoke her rage."

Severus watched as Dumbledore swept out of the room, leaving him to contemplate the strange events of the day, and the unexpected changes in fortune they had brought forward.


	21. Chapter 21

A/N - Once again, many many profuse apologies for keeping everyone waiting for so long. I've just been unable to write anything that I've been satisfied with. I hope this helps keep you all sated for a little while at least.

Anyways, as always feedback is greatly appreciated, and whilst you're at it, I'd also appreciate a little feedback on another fic I've started called _The Broken Prince_. Thanks everyone, Happy New Year, and I promise I'll try not to keep you all waiting so long for the next one.

* * *

The faint, fluttering sound of wings gently roused Hermione from her slumber. The room was still dark, and as the sun didn't start to rise until at least 7 o'clock during the winter months at Hogwarts, Hermione knew she had been woken far earlier than necessary. She quietly reached for her wand, and silently performed the Lumos spell. Her bedside clock said 5:40, and she wondered what had woken her up so early. As she extinguished the light from the end of her wand, she caught a brief glimpse of a pair of luminous eyes at the end of her bed frame. The sight took her so much by surprise that she nearly cried out loud, but quickly realised that the eyes belonged to a rather impatient owl, who was now rustling its wings in frustration, desperate to deliver its letter and get back outside to hunt. 

"Ok, ok," whispered Hermione soothingly to the creature as she took the envelope addressed to her from it. As soon as it was relieved of its burden, the owl flew away with an indignant hoot. Looking at the envelope, Hermione instantly recognized the small, spiky handwriting as belonging to Severus, and wondered what on Earth he would be doing writing to her at such an hour. She once again took up her wand, and pulled her bed covers over her head, enabling her to read the letter without waking up the other girls in the dorm.

_'Hermione,'_ she read.

_'Forgive the unsociable hour this is being sent to you – I find I have succumb tonight to the evils of insomnia. Apologies if this wakes you, but for my part, I am taking solace in the fact that if I'm suffering through lack of sleep, maybe you are too._

_'I would be most grateful if you would come and see me at your earliest convenience. There are things we need to discuss._

_'S'_

The tone of the letter was impossible to read, and half of her wanted to laugh at just how formal it was. The other half worried at this formal tone, and couldn't help but noticing the abruptness. Quietly whispering, "Nox," she put the letter on her bedside table and rested her head back down on the pillows. They both had lessons during the day so the earliest chance she would get to speak to him alone would be lunch, or most probably not until the evening.

She closed her eyes, and with a deep sigh rolled over onto her side and tried to get back to sleep. _'There are things we need to discuss.'_ The last sentence of Severus' letter was playing on her mind. _'There are things we need to discuss.'_ She tried rolling on to her other side. _'There are things we need to discuss.'_ She sat straight up in bed, punched her pillow, and flopped heavily back down again. _'There are things we need to discuss.'_

The time was now nearly 6 o'clock, and she resigned herself to the fact that she definitely wouldn't be getting back to sleep. She also had two hours before breakfast. Severus' letter had said 'at your earliest convenience,' and so, feeling slightly anxious, she hoped that two hours was enough to get to the bottom of whatever was currently bothering him.

* * *

The corridors of Hogwarts castle were deserted; this coupled with the frosted window panes and eerie grey pre-dawn light gave the castle a feeling of foreboding, and, wishing that Severus had chosen anywhere but the dungeons to live, Hermione quickened her pace. 

She was there within minutes and knocked gently on his door. There was no answer and so she tried again, louder this time. The heavy door was pulled open, and Severus was framed in the doorway, wearing only a dressing gown. He looked dreadful; his eyes were red, and the shadows under his eyes were so pronounced that it gave him the gaunt appearance of a skeleton.

"What are you doing here?" he mumbled.

"May I come in?"

He stepped to one side, allowing her to pass, then shut the door behind her.

"I got your message. And then I couldn't get back to sleep, so... here I am."

"Indeed." He sat down heavily in his arm chair. The fire in the grate had obviously been burning until very recently; the embers were still glowing and were providing the room with very little light. Hermione took out her wand and said, "Incendio." The fire sprang back to life and provided some much needed heat in the chill air.

"What's wrong now, Severus?"

"I was rather hoping that you could tell me."

"Severus, I've only just woken up. Now isn't the time to be all cryptic on me. What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong with me. What's wrong with you?"

She silently wondered why she had bothered coming now; he clearly wasn't feeling particularly communicative, and she wished she'd simply stayed in bed. She remembered reading in a Muggle journal once about the effectiveness of employing reverse psychology in certain situations, and, against her better judgment, decided that now was as good a time as any to see if the study had been worth its salt.

"Fine then. I'm going back to bed. I'll talk to you when you're in a better mood."

He nodded and stared back into the fire. Clearly Muggle techniques of reverse psychology were not suitable for use in conversation with morose wizards. She made a mental note to remember this for the future and stood still, patiently watching him.

After a few minutes, Severus, without looking up at her, said, "I thought you were going."

"I changed my mind." She took a few steps forward and placed her fingers under his chin. Very gently, she tilted his head up towards her, then bent down to place a feather-light kiss on his lips.

"What was that for?" He seemed genuinely confused.

"So that you know I'm not going anywhere, and that I want to know what's troubling you, so I can help it stop troubling you."

He paused for a very long time, with a slight frown creasing his brow. Hermione had come to realise that this meant he was weighing his words very carefully, choosing the best way to express his feelings.

"I am most... perturbed by the events that have taken place over the last forty eight hours. None of it seems to make any sense, and I have been replaying every last detail over and over, and I find I am still unable to understand any of it."

Hermione relaxed slightly; once he began to talk he would usually continue to talk. It was getting him started which was the tricky part. She edged her way forward and sat on the floor in front of him, looking up at him expectantly. "Go on," she said.

"Saturday morning came and went; no problems there – I'm finally alive for the first time in my whole god-foresaken life, there's a beautiful woman who seems to be genuinely interested in me; come the afternoon I find out that all is not as it seems, there is trouble in paradise, the beautiful woman wants to spend her afternoon crying alone because of me..."

"Wait a minute..."

"...And so I end up fighting with The Boy Who Lived, who takes the beautiful woman being upset as a deep, personal insult, the result of which lands us both in the Hospital Wing, where, for some reason unknown, The Boy Who Has A Deep Vendetta Against Me, has a sudden change of heart, and invites me to a family Christmas. If I'm missing some obvious logical chain here, Hermione, please tell me, because for the life of me, I can't see it."

She couldn't help but crack a small smile, but quickly straightened her face before Severus saw. The last thing she needed was for him to think she was laughing at him. Composing herself mentally, she said, "Harry's not a logical person, Severus, certainly not like you and I are. He never has been. He's just so... impulsive, I suppose. It's one of his biggest weaknesses, but it's one of the things that makes him who he is, and I wouldn't ever change that in him. He obviously got some notion into his head for a moment that it would be a good idea to ask you, and that was enough for him. Don't sit here worrying that there was no logic involved, because you'll be sat here forever."

"Pity."

"Sorry?"

"Pity. That would be where the notion came from. He pities me." There was no trace of emotion in his voice as he stared in to the flames. "He said I could come if I didn't want to be alone. Those were the exact words he used. He pities me."

"I don't know what to say Severus, but I'm sure that's not the case."

"It is." There was a much more familiar bite to his voice, and one that Hermione found herself relieved to hear. She could cope with 'angry Severus' much more than she could with 'depressed Severus.' His next comment, however, quickly dissolved that relief, turning it into defensive anger. "Fucking little shit. I'm not going to give him the pleasure."

"Severus, that's one of my best friends you're talking about. Please don't talk about him like that."

"Arrogant little fuck doesn't deserve you."

Hermione was instantly on her feet, shaking slightly from the anger that had risen in her. "I'm not going to tell you again." She stared at him with clenched fists until he finally made eye contact with her.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "But just because he suddenly has changed his mind about me, doesn't mean I can find it within myself to forgive him for everything."

"To forgive him for everything? What has he _ever_ done to you? He never even knew you existed when he started here, but you hated him from the word go!"

Severus opened and closed his mouth a couple of times as if to speak, then resolutely shifted his attention back to the fire. Inside he was screaming. The truth was, there was no real reason for him hating Harry as much as he did. Only that he hated James with every single fibre of his being – hated everything about him; he hated his popularity, hated his looks, hated his talent at everything, hated his loving family, hated his comfortable, perfect, middle-class life. And Harry was a constant, living reminder of the perfect boy who had made his own miserable life even more of a living hell.

Severus' thoughts were interrupted by Hermione yawning extremely loudly. "Forgive me if I'm keeping you up," he spat out, then instantly regretted it as he could feel Hermione's glare burning into him. In a softer tone he said, "Go and lie down if you want."

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Are you just going to sit there? You were the one who said that there were things we needed to discuss."

"There are. Maybe now isn't the right time."

"It's as good a time as any. Lie down with me? You look so, so tired, Severus. We'll talk more, but you need to rest." She reached out to him and took him by the hands, helping him to his feet. She silently led him through to the bedroom, but before they made it through the door he stopped. "Hermione, wait," he said, still holding on to her hand. "I need to know, Hermione, what have I done? Potter said you were crying because of me. What have I done wrong?"

Hermione sighed deeply. "Nothing, Severus. Just a case of crossed wires, that's all. That, and the fact that I wish you and Harry could get on. I was crying because I care about you both so much."

"What do you want me to do?"

"What do you mean?"

"Over Christmas. I cannot pretend that I'm suddenly going to fall in love with Boy Wonder, or to start worshipping the ground he walks on, but do you want me to come with you?"

"Severus, I want you to do whatever will make you happy."

He nodded slowly. "I want to be with you. But I cannot impose myself onto people who don't want me there." Hermione opened her mouth in silent protest, but Severus quickly cut her off. "It's true. Whenever I get invited to stay for dinner at Order meetings I decline, and without fail the rest of the Order are entirely unable to hide their collective sighs of relief. I have no desire to force my company where it is not wanted."

"You want me to stay here with you?"

Severus closed his eyes. Yes, he desperately wanted her to stay with him, and to give him the first pleasurable Christmas he could remember, but Dumbledore had often spoken of the importance of self-sacrifice in the name of love. He understood what that meant now. "No. Not if you don't want to. You go. I'll stay here and keep working on the cure." A sudden though came to him. "But I want you back here by the ninth of January."

"Why? What happens then?"

He looked slightly sheepish, and, drawing her closer towards him, said, "My birthday. If I can't have you for Christmas, I'm determined to have you then."

"Deal."

They held each other in silence for several moments, Severus burying his face in her hair, until Hermione broke the connection.

"Come on. You need to rest. Lessons start in a couple of hours, and, well, please don't take this the wrong way, but you're not at your best."

"I'm quite sure I can just sit there, and even in my current state still be more alert than the vast majority of people in the room, and in some cases I include the Professors in that. That is if I even decide to go. I'm certain I could easily be persuaded to stay in bed all day."

"I can't! I'm already behind on my revision!"

"I didn't say I'd require company all day," he growled gently, whilst maneuvering her towards the bed. "Merely persuasion. I haven't slept all night, and i feel some kind of aid to relaxation would be greatly appreciated."

She hadn't intended to end up in bed with him. Her only intention had been to try and cut through the melancholy that had settled around him. That melancholy certainly seemed to have dissipated somewhat, but he was exhausted, and sleep was all he needed. She smiled, briefly took his face in her hands, and helped him into bed, stroking his hair all the while. His head had barely touched the pillow before he had fallen into a deep sleep, and, nuzzling into the crook of his neck, Hermione quickly followed suite.


End file.
